


All of the stars are fading away (Just try not to worry you'll see them some day)

by planetsandstars



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Dementia, Fluff, Medical Inaccuracies, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 11:17:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5454659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/planetsandstars/pseuds/planetsandstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I love you Harry” Louis says but he’s not sure he believes it himself anymore. Because how can you love someone who doesn’t even remember who you are?</p><p> </p><p>Or, Harry starts to forget everything</p>
            </blockquote>





	All of the stars are fading away (Just try not to worry you'll see them some day)

**Author's Note:**

> (Title taken from Stop Crying Your Heart Out by Oasis.)

 

“Hey Lou what date is it?” Louis hums, not really listening since he’s trying to beat Niall’s high score on some dumb app he made Louis download. It’s pointless but being able to rub it into Niall’s face will make it all worth it. He dies.

 

“Shit, what was that?” he asks looking up. Harry rolls his eyes.

 

“What date is it?” he repeats, slowly. Louis shrugs.

 

“No clue, look on your phone”

 

“I don’t know where it is?” Louis frowns slightly.

 

“Well where did you last have it?”

 

“No idea” Harry says mildly. Louis sighs and hops off the bed.

 

“Wait, I can just ring it . . .” they eventually find it in the kitchen cupboard, nestled between Louis’ biscuits and Harry’s fancy tea. “How the heck?” Harry shrugs and rescues the phone.

 

“Thanks”

 

(Louis doesn’t think about it again until the same thing happens a few days later, only this time they find it in the bathroom cupboard.)

 

 

*

 

 

Harry collapses onto the hotel bed as soon as they get back. Louis toes off his shoes before going to join him.

 

“How many shows do we have left Lou, before the break?” Louis frowns, does a quick calculation.

 

“Three I think” Harry nods, three is still a big number because he’s tired already. He loves the stage, doesn’t feel more confident or content anywhere else, but this time it seems different, more draining than usual. He’d spent most of their time off getting seen out and about with different people, eating at different restaurants serving the same kind of fancy foods he’s bored of while texting Louis the same kinds of texts _can’t wait to get home._

Louis’s been going out a lot more, since they were on break. Comes back bright eyes and giggly, smelling of cigarette smoke with his skin hot and sticky and needing Harry to loop an arm around his waist to keep him from falling. Harry lets Louis cuddle him close in bed still though because this is hard for the both of them and Louis is only coping in the way he knows how.

 

“Three before the break before we hit Asia” Louis leans back with a sigh.

 

“Haven’t we even done Asia yet?” Harry groans scooting up the bed to lie on the pillows.

 

“’Fraid not” Louis kisses him.

 

“Are you scared though?”

 

“About what?”

 

“The break, not _this_ break, but like, _the_ break. The ‘hiatus’” Louis considers it. They knew it was something they wanted to do after the tour although they won’t tell the fans about it for a few months yet. Louis isn’t quite ready for the backlash of shock and fear that this is it, that it’s all over.

 

“I guess,” he says eventually. Harry laughs.

 

“You have such a way with words Lou”

 

“Hey I never pretended to be a pretentious wordy twat”

 

“That’s for sure” Harry teases and Louis huffs, pretends to be annoyed until Harry slides a hand to his waist and kisses him.

 

“You’re great” Harry says and Louis just smiles.

 

 

*

 

_“Will you still love me even after this is all over?” they’re done with their first tour and they’re back home for a while. It seems strange not to have to be anywhere or go onstage and perform the same songs night after night. They’d slept for nearly the whole day when they got back and had only got up because Louis wanted to order a takeaway. It had been the craziest thing any of them had ever done and Louis was excited about doing it again, even if it hadn’t always been fun and it was draining at times._

_“What do you mean love?”_

_“I mean, when One Direction isn’t a thing anymore, it’s not going to happen any time soon, probably, but when it does. Will you still love me?”_

_“Harry you worry far too much why would I stop loving you?” Harry shrugs and neither of them say anything. Louis just pulls Harry closer and nestles a hand in his hair._

 

 

*

 

 

“Harry where did you put the car keys?”

 

“No idea” Harry calls back

 

“You had them last,” Louis says, coming into the living room, checking the dresser and the coffee table.

 

“Did I?” Harry frowns, “When?” Louis turns around and stares at him.

 

“This morning” he says uncertainly, a little more concerned when Harry continues frowning and looking confused. He hasn’t forgotten the times a few weeks ago when Harry kept losing things. “You went to the petrol station”

 

“Oh yeah!” Louis exhales sharply, touches a hand to his forehead, his heart racing for no reason.

 

“You’re an idiot,” Harry laughs easily but his insides feel horrible because he really does not remember doing that.

 

 

*

 

 

_One Direction fans left in despair over shock departure of Zayn Malik_

_Zayn quits 1D to pursue ‘Real Music’_

_We didn’t expect this! It’s Zayn not Styles who is first to quit megastar boyband One Direction_

 “Why couldn’t he hack it? We’re all in the same fucking boat, what makes him any different? What makes him fucking special?” Louis seethes.

 

“We always knew this wasn’t really what he wanted, wasn’t his type of music, and obviously it just got too much for him”

 

“He should still have fucking stuck with it, how are we going to carry on now? How can we be One Direction without him?”

 

“We’ll do it, sure it’ll be hard but we can”

 

“That doesn’t answer my question” Louis snaps.

 

“Well I’m sorry I don’t have all the fucking answers, you’re being pretty selfish too you know? I know you were close to him but he was a part of the band, he meant something to us all”

 

“Sorry” Louis mutters and scrubs a hand over his face. “I think I’m going to go out, get a drink”

 

“Yeah? That’s your answer to everything recently, go out, get fucked off your face and come back expecting me to take care of you so you don’t fucking die choking on sick or something”

 

“Wow, fuck you”

 

“No fuck you” they’re being childish and they know it but for some reason this feels good. Like they need to just get rid of all these feelings so they can move on, so they can at least try to move on without Zayn.

 

“Come with me then, we can get fucked together” Harry throws his hands up incredulously.

 

“You know we can’t”

 

“Yeah and that the worst fucking thing about all of this. Zayn got out of it and we can’t. We have to stay hidden for fuck knows why and it’s shit, it’s so fucking shit I can’t take it any more!” Louis punches out at the wall but stops himself before he can make any real damage. Harry inhales sharply and reaches out to stop him, leans back when Louis halts, watches him warily.

 

“I’m sick of this, I hate Zayn for leaving us because he had the balls to do what we should have done when all this shit started”

 

“I get it” Harry says softly. Louis looks at him and racks a hand through his hair again.

 

“Don’t wait up, I’m going” Harry doesn’t try to stop him but goes to stay with Niall because he hurts as well and he can’t deal with Louis’ hurt as well as his.

 

 

*

 

 

Things have been tense between them recently and Harry doesn’t know whether it has to do with Zayn leaving or not. He gets that Louis is angry and confused and sad and that it’s easy to take those feelings out on each other. Harry wonders why they keep fighting to stay together when it would be so much easier to just stop.

 

“Are we together just because it’s the only thing we’ve known?” Harry asks when it’s dark and he dares to, when he can’t see Louis crumble beneath the weight of the question. Louis has been coming back later and later, barely before the sky turns a paler gray, smelling strongly of alcohol and smoke and lying on the far side of the bed, going straight to sleep.

 

“Do you think that?” Louis asks, his voice sounds small in the dark and it hurts Harry to hear it.

 

“No” Louis rolls over and looks at Harry, traces the crease of his forehead. Louis’ breath is hot on his skin and it still makes him feel tingly after all this time. He still loves Louis even after everything. It’s worth it. Everything is worth it. Louis is worth it.

 

“Neither do it” Harry nods and relaxes and Louis feels crushed that Harry actually needed to hear him say that.

 

He shifts closer and kisses him. Harry pulls him impossibly closer, touches as much of his skin as he can. He needs this, needs Louis to remind him why they keep doing this. Why they wake up every morning and go through the motions when it would be so much easier to just stop. Things will still be hard, they’re not going to get over Zayn leaving so soon but maybe they can find a better way of dealing with it, one that doesn’t involve empty, shouted words.

 

“One day love, we can be together properly and we won’t even have to do a Zayn” Harry snorts at the fact Zayn has become a verb.

 

“It’ll be nice”

 

“It’ll be perfect”

 

 

*

 

 

“ _I wish I didn’t have to do this”_

_“I know” Louis sounds tired and defeated and Harry wishes he hadn’t said anything. Wishes they could have nice, happy conversations which didn’t end with him feeling worse than he didn’t before. He knows it isn’t his fault though, it’s nether of their faults, it’s just the way things have to be for now._

_“What time are you going out?”_

_“Soon I think, they want us to make a day of it you know? Make it seem like we’re desperate to spend every second together” Louis practically growls and Harry can’t help but laugh, he knows the face Louis is pulling right now and it makes the ache in his chest a little harder to ignore._

_“I miss you,” he says because he can’t help it, it’s the truth and Louis lets out a long sigh._

_“I miss you too, but you’ll be coming home in a few days and we can pretend it’s the New Year again and do it our way”_

_“What, by fucking on the couch or something?”_

_“Well maybe something a little more exciting, I mean, it’s the New Year and all”_

_“Well, I’ll let you think of alternatives and I’ll pick the best”_

_“Sure love, I’ll text you a list”_

_“I can look at it and pretend I’m enjoying myself”_

_“Anything to make things easier for you baby” Harry smiles even though Louis isn’t there to see it. Sometimes the love he has for Louis is overwhelming. There’s a knock at the door and someone muffled says it’s time to go._

_“Lou, I have to leave now”_

_“Okay” Harry stays put, unsure what to say._

_“I’ll ring you later”_

_“If I’m not too drunk” Harry doesn’t want to think about Louis being with his friends or something while he's stuck here alone. He doesn’t blame Louis because he's glad Louis won’t be stuck inside feeling horrible, but he wishes they could be together and neither of them had to feel terrible._

_“I’ll ring you anyway”_

_“Of course love”_

_“Okay, bye”_

_“Bye”_

 

 

*

 

 

“Why are you following me?” Harry asks and he sounds so genuinely confused that the paparazzi man lowers his camera, pauses.

 

“Because you’re you,” he says by means of explanation. Harry frowns.

 

“Okay, well can you stop?” the man frowns this time.

 

“Are you fucking with me?”

 

“No, I just want you to leave me alone” Harry turns away and continues walking towards the coffee shop. He just wants to get his drink and go back home now if people are going to be weird. What’s wrong with him going out and doing normal stuff? Isn’t that what people do? He doesn’t get very far before someone screams and runs up to his side.

 

“You’re fucking Harry Styles, I mean, not literally, you don’t fuck yourself . . . shit I’m sorry, can I get a picture?” the girl pulls out her phone before Harry can reply and his smiles vaguely. She thanks him, voice shaking before dashing off. Harry feels dazed, what is with people today?

 

“Shit, oh my fucking God” he hears someone say and turns to see another girl with her mum kind of freaking out. Harry takes a picture with her as well, and her mum, and then a few more people. He's really, terribly confused and scared as to why people seem to be so intent on meeting him. Eventually he just goes back to the car without his drink because it’s all just a little too much.

 

 

 

 

Louis is watching TV when he gets back. Harry pads into the living room and sits next to Louis, scooting closer to lean against him.

 

“You alright?” Louis asks, not moving his gaze from the TV.

 

“There were lots of people following me when I was out, why do you reckon they were?” Harry asks with a frown and Louis’ stomach drops. It’s getting too weird to ignore now, the forgetfulness was nothing at first, just tiredness Louis thought and Harry’s confused frowns and wrinkling of his nose was cute which, again, Louis put down to tiredness but this . . . this is something else.

 

“They were following you to take pictures. They’re paparazzi love, you know? Because you’re famous” Harry’s frown deepens before he shakes his head, amused.

 

“Famous?” he lets out a bark of laughter, “Stop fucking with me Louis”

 

Louis scrambles to turn the TV off and pushes Harry back to arm’s length, looks at him seriously, so seriously Harry thinks he's said something wrong.

 

“Harry if this is a joke for fucks sake stop it right now”

 

“Why would I be joking?” Louis swears softly, gets up, runs a hand through his fringe.

 

“Harry, please for the love of god, tell me this isn’t happening. _Please._ If this is all some elaborate joke can you just stop it right now” he says again looking at Harry expectantly, like he needs Harry to smile at him, tell him he’s too easy to prank or something. For Niall or Liam to be in on it as well. Louis would be dizzy with relief, so relieved he wouldn’t even by angry (not that angry anyway.) Harry just looks at him helplessly. It doesn’t seem funny anymore since Louis looks scared and stressed and isn’t laughing along with him.

 

“What do you mean joke? I’m so confused, I don’t understand”

 

“Me either” Louis mutters rubbing his face before looking at Harry again, “For fucks sake Harry, how can you just forget? It isn’t fucking possible!” he's angry, angry, upset and confused because why is this happening? Why can’t Harry remember?

 

“We were on stage love, a few weeks ago, we’re on a break,” he says a little more calmly, sitting down, putting his hand on Harry’s knee, trying to explain, to get Harry to remember.

 

“From what?” Harry’s childlike questions and expectant looks are too much; Louis’ voice wavers as he answers.

 

“From the tour . . . from . . . from On The Road Again, you must remember Harry!” Harry looks startled at Louis’ pleading voice, hates how he has to shake his head.

 

“No” the word crushes Louis. He stands up again, face hot and eyes prickly. His chest feels dull and empty because how can Harry _not remember_? Not remember everything.

 

“You must remember being in the band! You know, _One Direction_? It’s been five fucking years! Five years of performing and touring and making album after fucking album, why can’t you remember?!” Louis’ resorts to shouting because none of this makes sense to him, Harry doesn’t make sense to him. It’s too much for Harry and he starts crying because this whole day has been confusing and stressful from the start.

 

“I don’t know!” Louis swipes angrily at his own tears and sits back down, smiling gently, pulling Harry against him.

 

“Shh baby, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have shouted, it’s not your fault. I’ll sort his out for you Harry, for the both of us . . .” and Harry would feel better if he knew what Louis was trying to sort out for them.

 

 

*

 

 

They have to wait three days for an appointment with the Doctor; apparently being famous doesn’t mean you can cut waiting lists, even if you go private.

 

Louis turned the Internet off and wouldn’t turn it back on for the rest of the night after him trying to jog Harry’s memory through concert videos and media articles make Harry break down again. It’s more that he’s frustrated than anything, that he can’t remember what Louis is telling him, and what quite obviously, seems to be true.

 

 

 

 

Harry’s skin is always paler when they’re on a breath and they stay at home. Louis strokes the skin of his wrist, traces along the curve of his vein and around onto the hard black lines of his tattoo. Louis always wakes up early involuntarily because Harry wanted the pretty light gray curtains and not the practical blind. Louis always amuses himself waiting for Harry wake up, plays with a stray curl or just lies back down next to Harry, lines their arms up and loves how they look together.

 

“Harry, something is wrong with you,” he says later he’s stopped putting it off because he doesn’t want to worry Harry. Doesn’t want the crease between his eyebrows to return.

 

“What?”

 

“Can you remember yesterday, what happened?”

 

“Nothing special?” Harry says with a false laugh that sounds awful to both their ears. Louis shakes his head.

 

“You couldn’t remember being you, you couldn’t remember being famous or being in the band, you didn’t understand why some paparazzi were following you” Harry laughs.

 

“That’s ridiculous, how could that have happened?” Louis looks pale and tired and Harry runs a hand through his hair nervously.

 

“I don’t know baby, that’s what we need to find out”

 

 

*

 

 

Louis’ fingers tap repeatedly against his knee in the waiting room and Harry covers his hand with his, Louis offers him a tight smile. The door opens.

 

“Do you want to come in now? The doctor takes a seat, seems a little star struck and flustered for a moment that one half of One Direction is sitting there before he smiles pleasantly.

 

“So what can I do for you?” Louis explains.

 

“When was the first time you noticed this Harry?” Harry shrugs.

 

“It’s been a while I guess, couldn’t remember the date or what my car looked like. I just thought I was tired though or stressed or something” Louis wants to scream at Harry then, shake him roughly and demand why he didn’t tell him earlier. Why he let things get this bad. “I can’t remember not remembering who I was though” Harry sounds worried saying that.

 

The doctor runs some tests and Louis has to step outside before he gets upset again. He slams his fist into the wall back in the waiting room and the receptionist looks displeased. “Sorry" Louis mumbles sure that’s going to make it online by tonight _Angry Boybander hits out at Innocent Wall_ or something. Louis takes a seat and rubs at his face. He hates this, not being able to do anything. Hates how something neither of them understand is happening to Harry. The door reopens and the doctor smiles at him.

 

“Do you want to come back inside”?

 

 

*

 

 

“I must admit I haven’t seen something like this before and I can’t diagnose anything properly without some more tests but it appears to be some kind of progressive memory loss . . . obviously I don’t want to alarm you since we don’t know exactly what it is so I’ll refer you to a specialist . . .”

 

 

*

 

 

A week later they go to discuss Harry’s results and Louis leaves the room to cry.

 

 

*

 

 

“You won’t notice any physical changes and some days will be better than others. The brain is complicated and we still don’t know why it does what it does sometimes”

 

“Why Harry though? I mean, isn’t he too _young_?” Louis coughs when his voice shakes and the consultant smiles sadly at him.

 

“This is a really unusual case”

 

“But . . .”

 

“Louis, I won’t lie to you, this is going to be really hard. Not just for you and Harry but for everyone. It’s going to seem sometimes like Harry is a completely different person . . .”

 

“But that’s not fair!” Louis bursts out, vision blurring, “How can this happen?”

 

“I’ve lined up some support sessions for you, even if you don’t think you want to talk, I’ll do some good. You shouldn’t try to do this on your own . . .”

 

“Stop it! Stop acting like Harry’s gone already when he fucking hasn’t!” Louis shouts but can’t say anymore because he’s crying again.

 

“I’m so sorry Louis, I really am . . .”

 

*

 

 

“Do you mean he’s mad?” Niall asks, he sounds scared. Louis talks about Harry’s brain like he understands but how can any of them understand why this is happening?  Why it’s Harry it’s happening to. The Doctor said stuff about neurons and cells and dying. He’d shown Louis interactive charts that looked so impressive but didn’t mean anything when it was showing parts of Harry’s brain already diseased. They’d made them bright yellow as if it could make it easier to look at.

 

“No I fucking don’t” Louis snaps.

 

“I don’t get why” Liam says

 

“I don’t either” Louis says quietly. He looks defeated, Liam thinks, and that scares him. Never throughout everything had Louis give up on Harry, on them.

 

“So what’s going to happen now?”

 

“They’ll do some more tests, try some medicine maybe, but . . . he said not to get too hopeful. Harry . .  . well, he's just going to forget” saying it like that makes it sound so trivial. Harry wasn’t dying, not really. Only his brain was.

 

“Fucking hell” Niall says quietly.

 

“Don’t treat him differently though, not yet, he'd hate that. I mean . . .” Louis chokes off.

                                     

“Yeah, ‘course” Liam says, voice husky. Louis nods stiffly, gets up, wonders if he’ll ever have a day when he doesn’t end up crying. (It doesn’t seem likely)

 

 

*

 

 

They go in for a meeting and Harry holds Louis’ hand under the table

 

“We continue as normal for now. You guys will carry on doing shows until you can’t anymore . . . then you’ll have to decide whether you want to carry on without . . .” Louis inhales sharply.

 

No, absolutely no way. They can’t be One Direction without Harry. They already lost Zayn and carried on without him. They can’t lose Harry as well.

 

But they already are, they already have been without knowing, they started loosing him slowly a while ago the Doctor said.

 

 

*

 

 

Louis watches Harry carefully for the first few shows. He needn’t have worried though because Harry is exactly the same as he’s always been. Harry tells a terrible joke and Louis smiles to himself even though he’s heard Harry tell it at home before. He stands next to Liam and looks out at the audience, at how far they’ve come, and everything is fine for the time being.

 

Louis catches Harry’s hand afterward, rubs a thumb over his bony wrist.

 

“Good one”

 

“Thanks” Louis kisses him even though everyone is there and Louis sticks up his middle finger when someone whistles and Harry laughs against his mouth.

 

“Little eager” he says softly in Louis’ ear.

 

“Always for you” Louis says back.

 

“Let’s get back then”

 

 

*

 

“Harry, baby, come on we have to get up” Harry mumbles sleepily and doesn’t budge. Louis hops back on the bed and shakes him gently. “Come on” he says with more urgency. They’re late as it is.

 

“Why?” Harry says, muffled from where his face is pressed into the pillow.

 

“Why what?” Louis asks although his chest feels numb.

 

“Why do we have to get up?”

 

“Sound check, remember? We’ve got the concert tonight” Harry opens his eyes and peers at Louis curiously.

 

“Do we?”

 

“Yes love” Louis answers, tries to stay bright even though he feels awful. He hates how this is becoming so frequent, how Harry is forgetting so much recently.

 

“Oh” Louis pulls the covers back and kisses Harry quickly. He watches Harry grumble as he roots through the pile of clothes on the chair, people would probably be horrified if they saw the state of Harry’s stupidly expensive shirts. Louis watches he chooses. Notices how in the half dark room Harry doesn’t look as tanned, smiles at the curves of his sides and stomach and the contrast of his left arm with his right.

 

“Should we get going then?” Harry says and Louis stands up, pulls on the hem of his shirt to straighten it out a little and kisses him, resting a hand on his chest, on the smooth expanse of skin he always neglects to cover up.

 

“I thought we were late,” Harry says with a smirk.

 

“Hmm, it’s not my fault you don’t know how to get dressed properly”

 

“Should we blow it off then?” Harry asks, “And don’t make something out of blow” he adds when Louis gives him a look and snorts. Harry covers his face. They’re literally teenagers still; Louis has the mentality and the sense of humour of a 13 year old.

 

 “Sure love, let’s totally _blow_ it off”

 

“You just couldn’t help yourself”

 

“Nope” Harry sighs and smiles fondly.

 

 

(and Louis isn’t too worried, not yet, because Harry is fine, for now, just a little forgetful which Louis is fine with.)

*

 

 

It’s been ridiculously hot for three days now and Louis is over it. He was fine at first, went down to the beach with Liam, until it got too chaotic with fans and cameras, and he hasn’t been able to go out since. Word has caught on that they’re staying here and there’s a constant hum of people waiting outside. Louis is sick of looking like shit in the pictures they take of him and so he isn’t going to give them the chance to take them. He hears a card in the lock and the door opens, Harry’s abandoned all pretence of modesty and is shirtless, Louis looks away.

 

“Hey” Harry pauses, “didn’t think you’d be here” Louis shrugs.

 

“I was bored of it all” Harry nods as if he understands (he _does_ understand) and Louis looks up at him.

 

“What’re you up to?”

 

“Not sure” Louis looks away again.

 

“So, should we hang out tonight then?” Louis asks and Harry rolls his eyes.

 

“Is ‘hanging out’ some way of saying you want to fuck?” Louis snorts.

 

“No, hanging out means just doing something together . . .”

 

“Maybe” Louis stills.

 

“Would you want to hang out I did mean I wanted to fuck?” Harry shrugs

 

“Maybe”

 

“You’re impossible” Louis is tired. Tired of this (whatever this is.) He's sick of not knowing where they stand, what they are anymore (if they’re even anything.) Louis wasn’t sure how they were going to react to Harry’s illness but he never thought it would cause this tension between them. They haven’t responded well to it because they don’t know how to. They’re both angry and confused and it’s like Zayn leaving the band all over again. He knows it’s normal for couples to fight but they’ve been fighting a lot recently. But not even fighting, not really, more just giving each other space. Not knowing where they stand almost seems worse than if they were arguing.

 

“What do you mean by that?” Harry asks coldly, it’s Louis’ turn to shrug.

 

“Not sure”

 

“Oh, for fucks sake . . .”

 

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean . . . why did we stop talking to each other properly and let ourselves become _this_?” Louis gestures wildly with his hands. “This whole thing is hard enough without us ignoring each other as well”

 

“So what are we going to do?” Harry asks, he shivers even though it’s still boiling out and goes to get another shirt.

 

“We’re going to forget it happened,” Louis says firmly. “Because the whole thing is stupid. We need to work through this together because I don’t want to waste whatever time we have left not actually being together.” Harry nods, climbs into the bed next to Louis dizzy with relief.

 

“And we’re not going to let it happen again, yeah?”  Louis nods and Harry touches him softly, kisses him.

 

(Louis fucks Harry later, slowly, gently, appreciates him, _them,_ what they have while they have it.)

 

 

*

 

 

“Do you want to tell Zayn?” Louis asks, Harry is a little surprised and he sits up straighter, considers it.

 

“Not sure”

 

“I feel like he’d want to know”

 

“What would I tell him?” Louis frowns, _oh hey Zayn, how you doing? By the way I’m not going to remember you in a year’s time, see you soon maybe._

 

“Not sure, maybe it’s a bad idea”

 

“No, I think I want to, I mean, it’s _Zayn_ ”

 

“Yeah, I’ll let you ring him”

 

“Okay”

 

 

*

 

 

Sometimes when they’re just lying there and he has a hand in Harry’s hair, petting at it absently, realising how long it is now, he thinks about just how far they’ve come. He can barely remember what it was like at the start, when things were easy. When it wasn’t secrets and lies and he didn’t need a packet of cigarettes to get him through the day, when he didn’t nervously anticipate Harry’s sad ‘miss you’ texts at 8am when it was 2am for Harry.

 

Were they happier back then? Were they _all_ happier? Zayn must have been at least, maybe. They were so stupid and naïve and they wore dodgy clothes and had bad haircuts but Louis remembers loving it all. Because it was their dream, and they could never had anticipated it would lead to this, that it’d get too big and too much so quickly.

 

“Were you happier before, like, when this all started? Were you happier than now? Louis asks. Harry tilts his head sideways.

 

“I guess so yeah”

 

“Yeah, so was I” Harry falls asleep curled against Louis’ side and Louis isn’t really sure why he drifts off crying.

 

 

*

 

 

“It’ll be the small things at first. He won’t remember what someone said yesterday or a few hours ago. Then it’ll be the things from further back, someone’s last birthday or something that happened when he was younger. The last stage will be the hardest, he won’t remember how to do things, or I’ll take him longer, even something as simple as turning on the TV. This will also be the time when he’ll forget who you, and other people, are . . .”

 

“How long until he reaches that stage?”

 

“It’s hard to say because everyone is different. Harry’s case is special though, his memory loss seems to be developing rapidly, much faster than other cases I’ve observed . . .”

 

“So, how long?” Louis says between gritted teeth. The doctor looks at him sadly.

 

“A year perhaps, maybe a little more . . .”

 

 A year. 365 days. Only a year left with Harry.

 

 

*

 

 

“Lou where are we going tomorrow?”

 

“South Africa, I just said a few minutes go” Liam interjects. Louis shoots him a cold stare and Liam flounders, “Shit I’m sorry”

 

“It’s fine” Harry shrugs; he can’t blame his bandmates because this is all so difficult to deal with for all of them.

 

 

*

 

 

Louis isn’t sure where they are; not that it makes much difference since it’s always the same anyway. The double bed, the white sheets, the open window and the traffic not quite loud enough to drown out the constant hum of the fans, the way Harry always rolls onto the other side of the bed and steals the covers and the way Louis gives up sleeping once he's awake and goes to the window to smoke instead. He can always count on some consistencies.

 

Louis feels more tired than usual and it’s not even 9pm yet. His eyes ache when he stares at his phone and his arms hate him for trying hold it above his face as he lies down. It’s pathetic and he doesn’t even care. If he could only stop worrying, even for a little while, if Harry could just remember like he used to be able to, if Louis didn’t have to worry about the both of them. It’s only been a month.

 

“Lou?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“You have to stop looking at me like that”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like we only have so much time left, like I’m suddenly going to go”

 

“But you are” Louis says because it’s the truth and he’s tried of pretending, of lying to himself that it can be anything otherwise. Harry sucks in a breath.

 

“I know, God, I fucking know, but . . . can’t we pretend for a while?” Harry sounds like he's pleading with Louis and his head aches with the sound.

 

“Yeah, fuck, of course” he says quickly so Harry will stop sounding so sad. He doesn’t want to hear Harry like that, can’t cope.

 

“Because I’m scared, I’m . . . I’m scared of losing you”

 

“I won’t leave you” Louis says, tries to stop this conversation because it’s horrible and sad and he hates how they have to have it. Hates Harry’s mind for betraying him like this. Harry shakes his head,

 

“No but I’ll leave you, not willingly, but still . . .”

 

“Yeah” Louis sits up, if they carry on like this it’ll end up with another night spend lying in the darkness with their thoughts and the horrible places they take them to.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“To text Niall and Liam, we never hang out together anymore, we should get them over, play some games, like we used to” Harry brightens.

 

“Yeah, I’d like that”

 

“You’re not coming on my team though, you’re hopeless” Harry swats Louis and Louis rolls off the bed laughing.

 

 

*

 

 

Louis knows he shouldn’t listen to what Google has to say about anything medical but he does it anyway. He spends nights sat at the dining room table surrounded by leaflets taken from hospitals when they go for check ups and when he goes for therapy and a growing amount of cups he should put in the dishwasher but can’t because how can be think about pointless stuff like that? He searches endless combinations of words relating to memory loss and how long it takes to deteriorate and how people cope with it themselves and how the people around them cope.

 

He's always angry with himself and upset when he closes his laptop when it’s 2am and his limbs are stiff because he hasn’t moved for hours and Harry went to bed alone again and he goes upstairs to find Harry and curls himself against his side and tries to focus what he has. That he has Harry as Harry for the time being. That it’s only 3 months since they went to the doctor and nothing too drastic has changed. That Harry’s memory is still pretty much the same only he’s a little more forgetful. It should be enough, but how can it be? How can anything make losing Harry sometime in the future okay?

 

 

*

 

_“Harry fucking talk to me would you? I’m fucking sick of this”_

_“Of what?” Harry snarls._

_“Of you acting like this is all my fault when you know it fucking isn’t!” he’s shouting and it feels good. They’ve been pussy footing around this issue for far too long._

_“You didn’t have to go and see her, that wasn’t part of the plan, you just wanted to” Louis laughs. He knew Harry got jealous and protective over him, but he didn’t think Harry was stupid. Not until now._

_“Is that what this is all about? Really? After all these years you think I’m what? Cheating?” hearing Louis say it makes it all seem stupid. Harry sits down on the sofa, runs a hand through his hair._

_“I don’t know what I thought,” he says quietly._

_“Don’t you trust me?” Louis demands,  “Because, fucking hell, if you don’t . . . “_

_“What?” Harry asks softly._

_“This whole relationship is built on trust. We trust each other to go do what we have to, be apart, get seen with people and for it to mean nothing, because we’re supposed to love each other”_

_“Supposed to?” Harry sounds so sad and Louis looks down._

_“Yeah”_

_“Does that mean . . ?”_

_“Well I trust you, it’s you who doesn’t seem to trust me” there’s a silence that shouldn’t be there. Harry should have apologised and they would have kissed or something, forgotten about it like they always do. Louis’ chest is tight._

_“Harry, please . . .” Harry shakes his head._

_“This is so hard Lou, I hate it, I hate it so much”_

_“So I do it”_

_“We wouldn’t keep putting ourselves through it if we weren’t worth it would we?”’_

_“Of course not” Louis says quickly, “fucking hell, I wouldn’t have done half the shit if you weren’t worth it” Harry nods._

_“Neither would I” Louis goes to sit next to Harry and Harry shifts closer and clings onto Louis like it’s the only thing he can do and they don’t do anything else but Louis thinks they’re okay again for now._

 

*

 

 

They go to the hospital for check ups and scans and discuss whether Harry would like to try new therapy shown to have mildly successful results in Finland or something (he doesn’t) or if he wants to try taking a rainbow of pills everyday (he doesn’t either.)

 

“Why don’t you try it?” Louis asks in the car on the way back home. The side effects didn’t sound to bad, some sickness in the first few months and maybe some tiredness.

 

“I don’t want to” Harry says simply.

 

“I don’t understand, why?”

 

“Because then it would be like admitting to myself that I am actually ill,” Harry answers, turning to look out of the window.

 

“But you are!” Louis says like its obvious, “For fucks sake Harry if that’s the reason I’m calling the hospital when we get back and telling them you want to try the drugs”

 

“You’re fucking not”

 

“Why? It’s stupid you not wanting to try them. What if they work? What if they work and you get better? We can put this whole thing behind us and go back to normal. We’ll finish the tour and go on the hiatus and everything will be great. It’ll be exactly like we wanted things to be, the way they _should_ be”

 

“You don’t understand. You’re not the one who’s actually sick. You can sit there and say you understand but you’re not the one who this is happening to”

 

“Then surely you’d want to try the drugs, then you can be normal again” Louis cringes at his use of normal.

 

“But what if they don’t work? What if it’s all for nothing? I don’t want to waste time trying stupid shit that doesn’t work, I don’t want to be in and out of hospital full of false hope”

 

“Don’t think about stuff like that, think about the positives, _it could work_ ” Louis says it with such forcefulness; he’s trying to be so positive about the whole thing. Harry sighs and leans against the window.

 

“I’m tired, can we talk about this later?”

 

“Yeah, of course” Louis says even though he knows they won’t. Harry is done and his mind is set. They continue going to the hospital for checks every so often but other than that they do nothing about it but wait, wait for things to get worse.

 

 

*

 

It’s stupid, not being able to remember stuff, because it happened to him. Harry was there last year on tour, and the year before that. But he may as well have dreamt it all because it doesn’t seem real because he can’t _remember_. It’s not even fragments because Harry’s head is blank, it’s all nothing to him, only Louis’ words and his assurance that yes it did happen. It’s awful and sad and it makes him so angry because he should be able to remember everything, he’s too young for this to be happening to, surely. He’s too young to just forget everything.

 

 

*

 

 

Louis tries to treat Harry normally. And on some days it’s easy because Harry is fine and it’s almost like all the worrying is for nothing. Other days though, when Harry gets irritated asking the same question over and over because he can’t remember what Louis just told him, it’s hard.

 

“Stop treating me like a fucking child” he says, not quite shouting. Louis is tired and he sits down heavily in the chair.

 

“Yeah, I’m sorry” he says, pulling out his cigarettes from his pocket, lighting one. Harry doesn’t seem to know what to say or do so just sits on the edge of the bed and Harry watches the curls of smoke as it gets darker outside and it’s another day gone, another day closer to nothing.

 

 

*

 

 

They’re headed to Anne’s for a bit. Harry hasn’t seen her since they found out and the one phone conversation he had doesn’t seem enough.

 

Louis puts on the CD he's fondly titled _Cringey 2012_. It’s a compilation of all the songs that reminds them of each other named after when they were most touchy feely in public. It starts off with a Script song because really that was the start of things before they even knew it. Louis looks over at Harry when the first few seconds begin. Harry snorts and reaches forwards to turn it up. They know all the words and singing along together is inevitable really. It usually ends with Harry doing some cheesy Boyband dance moves and Louis nearly crashing the car (they don’t know why they still let Louis drive really.)

 

Harry made the CD as a present for Louis’ 21st birthday. It had taken him weeks to decide what to put on it. He’d changed and swapped as things came to him, had somehow cut the track list down from 35 to 15. It’s got happy songs and stupid ones that make them laugh and a few sad songs which Harry wasn’t sure whether to put on or not but did in the end. Things haven’t always been easy for them over the years and it was important to show that. Louis had listened to it the whole way through the morning after his birthday when he was tired and hungover and the light was pale gray filtering in through the window. He’d called Harry the moment it had finished.

_“Thanks for that”_

_“For what?” Harry sounded half dead and Louis guessed he'd woke him up._

_“For the present”_

_“Oh” Harry sounded a little brighter. “You liked it”_

_“I loved it”_

 

 

“I can’t believe you made this for me” Harry shrugs.

 

“It felt good when I’d done, like I’d managed to pack everything we’d done into one little CD”

 

“You should make an updated one sometime”

 

“Yeah I should, maybe for your next birthday” it’s not for another 7 months and Louis doesn’t say what they’re both thinking, that maybe he won’t be able to by then.

 

“Or I’ll make you one” Louis says quickly, to mask the sudden tension.

 

“Yeah!” Harry beams, “I want one!”

 

“Present sorted, a lot less exciting than the sex toy subscription box I was going to get but . . .”

 

“ _What_?”

 

“Yeah, they send out like new things on the market every month. You get like 6 things, it’s good value for money actually”

 

“I want it”

 

“You wanted the CD a moment ago”

 

“I want both, we can listen to the CD while playing around with whatever’s in the box” Louis snorts and moves into the slow lane.

 

“You’re too spoilt Harry” Harry pouts at him.

 

“Please”

 

“Maybe”

 

 

*

 

 

 

Wherever they are it’s warm outside and neither of them can sleep with clothes on. Louis lies on one side before flipping to the other. He can’t sleep. The heat is oppressive and the fans are constant outside even though it’s god knows what time in the middle of the night. He loves them, he thinks; they got them here after all, they’re the reason for everything. But at the same time Louis hates them as well. Hates the constant pressure and scrutiny, the fact that they always want something from them. The fact that they can’t just leave them alone, he’d be so much better and happier onstage if he could just _sleep_.

 

“Can’t sleep?” Harry asks in the darkness, Louis jumps a little.

 

“No, can’t you?”

 

“You were moving too much”

 

“Sorry”

 

“Don’t be” Harry moves closer and leans against him even though it’s far too hot and their skin is sticky. Louis strokes a hand through Harry’s hair. He’s not sure what he’s going to do when they can’t do this anymore, when Harry won’t let

him, when he can’t remember.

 

“Lou?” Louis takes a breath and swipes at his silent tears.

 

“Yeah love”

 

“You have to stop worrying so much. I know you, I see the way you look at me, like I’m suddenly going to turn around and not want to be with you anymore. And yeah sure, maybe that will happen one day but not yet, not now. If you keep thinking about the future then you’re not going to appreciate what we have now” Harry is terribly cheesy sometimes but what he’s saying is so true. Louis nods.

 

“Fucking hell I know” Louis sighs and Harry moves from his side and pushes him into the mattress, kisses him. Harry is so comforting and familiar to him. The way his lips feel against his, the plains of his body, the sharpness of his hipbones and the cute pudge of his sides, it all makes sense to Louis. He traces his hands along Harry’s hot skin, trails them down the curve of his spine towards the dip of his lower back. Harry licks into Louis’ mouth and find purchase on Louis’ waist, at the soft skin there. He loves Louis’ body more than anything, loves its soft curves and occasional hard lines. He remembers when Louis was so insecure about it, how he was smaller and less defined than the rest of them, how he hated how he stood out from the rest of them. Harry didn’t understand how Louis could think like that when he was so, so pretty. He’d shown Louis how lovely he was and eventually Louis learned to stop comparing himself. Harry kisses Louis with more intent when Louis’ hands move to his thighs, he breaks away to make marks down Louis’ neck and Louis lets out cute little noises that Harry loves.

Louis flips them gently and makes sure Harry is comfortable against the mattress. He loves the desperate little whines Harry makes when he's getting fucked. Loves how Harry wants to have Louis as close as he can, loves how he can’t tell where their bodies stop being their own and become each others. Harry is never prettier that when his hair is a dark mess against the pillows and he’s flushed and breathless. He loves how responsive Harry is to every little touch. He kisses Harry again because he can, because he loves him so, so much it’s ridiculous.

 

“Well that was nice” Harry says afterwards and Louis hits him playfully.

 

“You’re such a dork”

 

“A loveable dork?”

 

“Maybe” Louis says but kisses him anyway.

 

 

*

 

 

_Louis doesn’t know how some of the fans think they have such amazing, passionate sex when it usually starts with Harry tripping over his feet on his way to the bed and them struggling to get undressed amidst uncontrollable giggles. It was worse at the start, when they were just starting to understand each other, when they didn’t really know what they were doing. Louis was so scared of hurting Harry and Harry didn’t really know why his body loved what Louis was doing to it as much as it did. They’d been giggly and loved up to mask their insecurities, the fact they were clueless. Harry had been softer back then, less sure of what he liked and Louis just had to guess. They tried different things but mostly it ended with Louis breaking character when Harry looked at him so seriously and they’d roll around on the bed in fits of giggles and the moment had passed._

_They had soft, gentle sex when they had days off and their hands latched onto each other’s. They had soft, slow sex when things were bad, when Harry had to be seen with girls and things were changing in the band, when they were becoming less of themselves. Louis needed the feel of Harry close because it felt like they were slipping away otherwise, from themselves, from each other . . . They had rough, desperate sex when Louis made marks blossom on Harry’s neck because they needed reminding they were each others. Louis kisses Harry afterwards, wipes away his stray tears and smooths his hair. He’s watching Harry change and grow before him and as much as he loves it he also wishes they could stay like this forever, just clueless teenagers in love._

_“So Harry, you like older women huh?” the interviewer asks, she leans closer, her low cut dress purposeful, she looks almost annoyed when Harry doesn’t look._

_“I thought we were here to talk about the album,” Zayn says and Harry shoots him a grateful look. Zayn smiles at him and Louis touches his leg under the table._

_“Yeah . . .” she looks at Harry again before turning her attention to Liam. “So the album!”_

_Harry snorts as he reads the headline._

_“Lou look at this”_

_“Boyband heartthrob shatters hearts by only going for women with wrinkles, do I have wrinkles love?”_

_“Oh lots of them” Harry tosses his phone to the side and kisses Louis, “they’re everywhere”_

_“I should get them sorted”_

_“Not right now though”_

_“For fucks sake Harry do you have to be such a fucking whore or can you just not help it . . .” Louis snaps when they get back to their room, he tosses his shirt away and gets a clean one out. He's tired and Harry has been annoying him all day with his flirtatious smiles. It’s part of his act Louis knows. How he deals with constant, repetitive interviews with the same interviewers and the same questions. It’s inane and they all hate it sometimes. But he’s been having a bad few days and Harry is just there and easy to take it out on. He’s shocked to see Harry crying when he turns around to look at him._

_“Harry?” Louis crosses to the bed and gathers Harry into his arms. He lets Harry cling to him and strokes his skin and says soothing nothings in his ear. “What’s up baby?” he asks when Harry has mostly calmed down. Harry takes a deep shuddery breath._

_“I just . . . can’t deal with . . . it”_

_“With what?”_

_“With this, with everything. With people thinking I’m something that I’m not, that I just go around sleeping with all these women. I know it’s part of being famous but it’s shit, why do I have to lie about who I am?” Louis feels terrible because he can’t answer and  he hugs Harry closer. It’s one of their low points. Louis loves what they do, loves being able to perform because it’s the only thing he's ever really wanted, but they sacrifice so much to be here._

_Louis is selfish though, he wouldn’t change this, wouldn’t swap meeting Harry for anything so he just lets Harry be sad when he needs to be and does as much as he can to make him feel better. It’s not much but what else can they do?_

*

 

 

It’s so hot and Louis’ shirt is sticking to him uncomfortably, he lifts it up to wipe his forehead and the crowd go a little crazy. Louis smiles for their sake, half waves. He downs a half bottle of water and puts it down. When he pushes his hair back it sticks and he shakes it out. They’re only halfway through the show and he needs to stand in a shower for a year because who made them come to hot countries? It’s too much. He looks up, glad the audience is now distracted by whatever Liam is saying to them. He checks the stage to see where Harry is and sees him standing near the front. He’s put his hair up and undone yet another button on his shirt and Louis wishes he could just take his off. He'd feel better. It’s not just hot but oppressive. The air feels like it’s crushing him. He doesn’t stand up until he has to, until Liam looks over to him when the music has already started.

 

He doesn’t know how Harry can still be so _Harry_ onstage. He can barely manage to stand up and sing without wanting to lie down forever. They would be nothing without Harry, without Harry’s presence onstage. Without the way he gets way into the songs and the way he moves about the stage. Louis picks up another water bottle. His _everything_ is hot and it has nothing to do with the stupid heat. He wishes they were nearer the end of the show so he could go offstage and grasp a fistful of Harry’s shirt and kiss him. Harry knows exactly what he's doing and Louis hates him for it. He tries to ignore him, ignore the way he puts his all into singing and the ridiculous, shameless way he's such a slut onstage. It’s gone dark but no less warm and Louis is angsty and needy and why aren’t they finished yet? He misses his cue and Liam throws an arm around his shoulders.

 

“You okay?”

 

“Fucking brilliant” he says wriggling out of Liam’s grip. He’s hot enough as it is. He risks another glance at Harry and sees him singing with Niall.

 

“Harry’s looking particularly good out there tonight,” Liam says with a smirk. Louis shoves him and sings his bit of the song, ignoring everyone, focusing on just getting through the rest of the concert.

 

 

 

 

“Bit warm out there tonight wasn’t it?” Harry says when they’re headed backstage, he's walking in front of Louis but behind Liam and Niall and he falls back to wait for Louis.

 

“Lou? Don’t you think?” Harry asks, carefully pulling the bobble out of his hair.

 

“Yeah, hot as fuck” Louis mumbles. Harry peers at him curiously.

 

“You okay?”

 

“You . . .” Louis laughs and can’t take it much longer, he stops walking and pushes Harry up against the wall, tangles his hand in his hair and kisses him. Harry smirks against his lips.

 

“Finally” Louis just pulls at Harry’s hair. He kisses Harry like he didn’t kiss him last night before they went to sleep or this morning and like he won’t do it again later tonight. Harry moves his hands to Louis’ waist, to the dimples of his lower back, to his belt.

 

“Here?” Louis pulls back to ask and Harry nods, forehead creased and shiny with sweat.

 

“Yeah” they haven’t been this adventurous in a while. Louis pushes Harry away from him and takes his hand, pulls him along the corridor. They find some back room and it’s like some fanfiction shit the way Louis kisses Harry again before pushing him to his knees. Louis works at his belt while Harry watches, eyes following everything he does impatiently.

 

“Fucking hell” Harry mutters, knocking Louis’ hands away. Louis inhales sharply when Harry gets his mouth around him without warning. Louis nestles his hand back in Harry’s hair just to have something to hold onto. He risks looking down and sees Harry with his useless, mostly unbuttoned shirt exposing his flushed skin. As much as it’s completely overwhelming he needs to remember this, needs to remember how pretty Harry looks like this. He’s been hot and desperate for Harry to do something all evening and it doesn’t take Harry long at all. Louis leans back against the wall afterwards, panting, keeps a hand pressed against Harry’s shoulder. Harry wriggles around.

 

“ _Lou_ ” Louis gets his jeans back up, struggles with his belt again (he should definitely get a new one) and takes another look at Harry before he stands up. Maybe he was wrong, maybe Harry is never prettier when his eyes are glassy and wide and he’s waiting eagerly and obediently on his knees with his stupid lips parted expectantly. Harry presses himself against Louis when he’s up, tries to kiss him again but Louis is conscious of the car waiting for them.

 

“I’ll sort you out at home, come on”

 

 

 

 

Harry whines and pouts the whole car ride home. Presses himself against Louis and leans his head on his shoulder, mouths at his neck. Louis kisses him and presses a hand down on his cock, Harry gasps against his mouth and tries to get Louis to do it again, to do more. Louis just pulls away from him and smiles infuriatingly.

 

“ _Lou_ ”

 

“Harry we’re almost home” Louis says curtly and Harry sits back in his seat with a huff.

 

“I hate you”

 

“Oh, well in that case you can sort yourself out”

 

“I hate you more”

 

 

 

 

Louis lies Harry down because he wants to see his face when he comes so he can remember his open mouth and closed eyes and the way his hair curls against the pillow and way his breath feel against his skin. They have a shower afterwards and Harry lets Louis baby him because he likes it when Louis takes care of him and they accidently fall asleep on the sofa watching some crappy action film and Louis drags them to bed at 4am and Harry falls straight back to sleep again, soft and pretty in his arms.

 

 

*

 

 

They get drunk legally in America somewhere and Louis throws his arm across Harry’s shoulder carelessly. They’re not even sure what they’re out celebrating, maybe it’s just because they’ve made it this far, they survived this year so far. The lighting casts weird shadows across Harry’s face and Louis giggles, clutches onto Harry’s arm for support.

 

“Lou” Harry says in a sing song way, “did someone get a little too drunk?” Louis nods and Harry knocks back the rest of his drink, discards he cup before wrapping an arm around Louis’ waist.

 

“I’m supposed to be drunker than you Lou! You’d been drunk in America more times than I have” in Louis’ alcohol induced mind this seems to make perfect sense.

 

“We need to get you another drink then!” Louis taps his chin thoughtfully and Harry just rolls his eyes and guides them over to the bar.

 

 

 

 

“When did you get so old curly? I remember when you were a small baby of 16” Louis slurs and leans back against the sear of the car. Harry lurches forwards when they make a sharp left overtaking a car and grasps onto Louis’ jacket to pull himself upright.

 

“I’m only 21 Lou, that’s not old”

 

“Old, old, old” Louis sings, “You’re _so_ old Harry . . . but I guess you can always be my baby, perhaps” Harry beams and would kiss Louis if he trusted himself to do it without injuring the both of them. He settles for letting Louis put his hand on top of his and lacing their fingers together.

 

 

*

 

 

Harry notices the awful pinched look Louis gets when he doesn’t remember something and starts lying. It’s a little hard because he has to pretend to remember something he knows fuck all about but it makes Louis looks less stressed and he smiles instead of looking devastated when they talk. Harry will do anything to make this all easier for Louis because he hates how awful this is for him.

 

 

 

 

They’re watching TV and Harry has no idea what the characters are supposed to be doing or what their background stories are. He focuses on the steady rise and fall of Louis’ chest instead, the feel of his soft jumper against his cheek.

 

“You want to watch another episode?”

 

“Sure” Harry just wants to stay here, safe, pressed against Louis where he doesn’t have to worry as much.

 

 

 

 

They get in the car and Harry doesn’t know why they’re dressed semi-smartly, as in not in tracksuit bottoms, but he loves the shirt Louis has on so it doesn’t matter. Harry rests a hand on his thigh while they drive. Louis pulls up at Niall’s house and Harry looks up at it confused, Louis notices.

 

“Harry?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You told me you knew where we were going”

 

“I do”

 

“No you don’t” Louis says sternly, looking at Harry which he ignores, “Harry . . .”

 

“Fine! I lied to you, fucking hell,” Harry snaps, sitting back in his seat.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because it made things easier! I couldn’t cope with your disappointment when I didn’t remember something, it killed me every time I looked at you”

 

“Harry” Louis says softly, “Please don’t do that, don’t resort to lying” 

 

“I won’t anymore” Harry says and gets out of the car before Louis can say anything else.

 

*

 

 

 

Louis finds Harry in the bedroom. He's lying down, phone in hand, body shaking with near silent sobs. Louis runs a hand through his hair and hurries over to the bed.

 

“How can I not remember any of this?” Harry asks before Louis can say anything. Louis takes the phone gently out of Harry’s hand and sees Harry’s reading some article from 2012 about them. Zayn has his arm slung easily around his shoulders and Louis’ chest feels funny. He puts the phone on the bedside table and climbs onto the bed next to Harry. He hates how useless he feels all the time. How the only thing he can do is hold Harry tight until he's calmed down again. It’s becoming more frequent recently and Louis hates how Harry keeps doing it to himself, to the both of them.

 

 

“It’s not fair” Harry says later when it’s gone dark outside and Louis’ arms have gone numb.

 

“No baby, it’s not”

*

 

 

Louis stumbles into the kitchen. He's wearing one of Harry’s old jumpers with the sleeves rolled back. He notices Harry sitting at the table with an envelope in the centre and feels a little scared.

 

“What’s that?” he tries to say it casually, goes over to the kettle to make some tea.

 

“For you” Harry says getting up and leaning against Louis, tucking his chin over Louis’ shoulder, offering him the envelope. Louis dumps one of Harry’s fancy tea bags into his cup from when he was going through a phase, it turned out fancy tea was more of Louis’ thing which surprised them both.

 

Louis tears at the envelope because he can never get the stupid things open normally. He’s not too sure what he's expecting, perhaps something from the hospital saying they can cure Harry or something saying there’s no hope and he's going to go tomorrow. Louis is shaking a little as he pulls whatever is inside out and Harry presses a quick kiss to Louis’ neck. He's more than a little relieved when he pulls out two plane tickets dated for tomorrow.

 

“It’s not for long since we’re back on tour again but . . .” Louis dumps the tickets on the counter and turns around to kiss Harry. It’s exactly what they need and he loves him so, so much.

 

 

 

 

They spend the first two days sleeping in late and having sleepy early afternoon sex when it isn’t dark outside and they can leave the window open. It’s nice to not have to rush anything, to not have to be anywhere or do anything. Louis makes simple meals because Harry is mostly too tired and lazy to do any cooking. Harry doesn’t mind living off pasta for four days, he likes pasta well enough.

 

“Where are we headed when we get back?” Harry asks when it’s getting dark outside and Louis is buried into Harry’s side because getting up to close the window is too much effort. It startles Louis a little, the question, because things have been so nice he’s almost forgotten. It was like having Harry back again before this all started. Louis knows he’s awful but it felt nice to have Harry as himself again. He knows Harry hasn’t gone, not yet, not completely, but he is going slowly. Turning into a shell of who he used to be, into someone Louis doesn’t know.

 

“Europe” Louis answers, running his fingers over Harry’s soft shirt, over the cute swell of his stomach.

 

“Europe’s always good” and Louis lives for the little things, the times Harry remembers something funny Liam said last week or the time they did something on tour last year. His memory is infrequent now and Louis doesn’t understand why sometimes he can remember and sometimes he can’t but it breaks his heart to see Harry struggle.

 

“Do you remember last year in Rome? When Liam ordered that pizza challenge pizza to the hotel and they charged him £50 for the concierge to bring it up. It was so big is barely fit through the door.” Louis can’t help but laugh; Liam had gladly handed over the money just because it was so funny and they’d all ended up in Liam’s room, together like old times, before they started drifting apart a little. Louis looks up to see Harry frowning and his stomach drops. He’s pushed Harry too far and he cant remember it.

 

“Can’t you . . ?” Harry shakes his head.

 

“No, but it sounds great, I’m glad I got to experience it. We should do it again when we’re there” Harry’s stopped lying when he can’t remember something now. It had only made Louis feel worse when Harry tried to lie for him. Louis smiles and nods.

 

“Definitely” Harry looks down and notices Louis’ goose pimpled arms.

 

“Lou, you’re freezing. Why didn’t you tell me you twat?” Harry shifts Louis off him gently and goes to shut the window. They go back to being a tangled together mess when Harry gets back.

 

“We should just stay here, ditch the rest of the tour” Louis says quietly.

 

“Yeah, I‘d like that”

 

“I’m sure Liam and Niall could cope on their own”

 

“They’re the better half of the band for sure” Louis swats him playfully.

 

“I don’t care what _you_ think but if we’re dividing the band then I’m in the better half for sure”

 

“When did you get so big-headed?”

 

“It’s the fame love, it’s all part of the process”

 

“Hmm, I’ll start calling you Real Louis Tomlinson from now on then” Harry says moving around to kiss Louis lazily.

 

“Yeah, you’d better, gotta milk that fame while it lasts”

 

“Don’t say milk” it brings back flashbacks of that prostate milking porn they’d watched that time. The worst thing was it was Niall who’d recommended it to them. Louis just laughs. The suns gone now and they should turn on the lights or something but kissing seems like a much better decision. Louis shifts off Harry and lies back on the sofa, pulls Harry on top of him. It’s so nice to be able to take things slowly and to be able to appreciate each other. Louis never wants to forget the feel of Harry’s lips against his or the way he impatiently brushes his hair aside when it gets in the way or how their tattoos looks when they’re lined up together. He doesn’t want to forget the overwhelming way Harry loves him or the way he loves Harry. He grasps Harry’s hair and tugs him away from the marks he’s making down his neck back to his lips. Harry goes easily and Louis presses his tongue into his mouth, trying to remember everything. It’s a little more overwhelming this time when Harry presses in slowly and Louis wants to remember the way Harry looks with his lips parted and his little breathy moans forever, The way Harry feels inside him and the way his body is pressed close and the feel of his soft lips against Louis’ chapped ones is too much and not enough. He’ll never get enough of Harry for it not to hurt when they can’t do this anymore, when they stop being HarryandLouis. Harry does say anything when Louis starts crying, just swipes gently at his tears and moves a little more slowly. Harry kisses away Louis’ panting and ragged breathing and whimpery moans when he comes.

 

Louis looks less tired since they’ve come away, less worn out and stressed and Harry wants to remember Louis like this forever, happy and content and radiant with his eyes bright and his hair a mess. Louis takes care of them afterwards. Makes sure they get cleaned up and brushes Harry’s hair for him because he always gets grumpy when the brush gets caught in his tangles. They lie tangled together in the darkness and Louis doesn’t think about how they have to go back home tomorrow, how tour starts again in two days, how he keeps thinking about which show will be their last. He doesn’t need to because being here with Harry, half asleep and cuddly, is enough for now.

 

 

*

 

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hi, it’s me. I got your number off Niall, hope you don’t mind . . .”

 

“Oh, no” Louis is surprised is all, he hasn’t heard from Zayn in months.

 

“How’s Harry?” of course he's calling about Harry, he’s stupid to think it’s for anything else.

 

“Not so good” Louis cringes at his words and Zayn’s pause. It’s the truth though.

 

“Oh . . . it’s so fucking unfair. Like, why did it have to be Harry of all people?”

 

“No fucking clue” Louis’s thought about it far too much over the past months and nothing good came of it, came of wishing it could be different.

 

“How are you though?”

 

“Me? Yeah, fine I guess. Surviving” he laughs but it sounds empty even to his own ears.

 

“You’re a shit liar Lou” Louis’s heart jumps a little at hearing Zayn call him that. Things didn’t end so good between them and he didn’t think they’d ever get back what they had. Maybe they still won’t.

 

“Will you come visit?” Zayn pauses, sucks in a breath.

 

“Would you . . . Harry want me to?”

 

“Harry would yeah, he was pretty down about you just leaving like that . . .”

 

“Yeah”

 

“But yeah, come, please . . .”

 

“Okay I will”

 

“Just, don’t be disappointed, I mean, don’t expect Harry to be what he was. I mean he still is sometimes, but not as much anymore”

 

“You’re doing great surviving this, I don’t think I would’ve lasted”

 

“Sometimes I don’t think I can take it much more . . . but yeah, come, soon”

 

 

*

 

 

Zayn arrives a week later. He looks so different yet it’s so familiar and nice to see him that Louis can’t help but go to hug him before he realises they’re not like that anymore. There’s a moment when Zayn isn’t too sure what to do before he pulls Louis towards him.

 

“Hi”

 

“Hey” and maybe they can fix things after all.

 

 

*

 

 

Harry looks shocked to see Zayn sitting at the table, coffee in front of him, and a smile on his face.

 

“Hi”

 

“Zayn?” Harry asks stupidly because yes, it most certainly is Zayn, but he’s so surprised he can’t help himself.

 

“Yeah it’s me,” he laughs.

 

“What? When did you get here?”

 

“Just now pretty much” Harry looks over to Louis and sees him smiling as well. This is too much, he hasn’t seen Zayn is months and he's here, now, in their kitchen like nothing’s changed.

 

“Oh” Harry makes like he's going to go hug Zayn before he stops himself. Zayn notices and stands up, pulls Harry tightly against him.

 

“Missed you”

 

“Missed you too”

 

 

*

 

 

They order and eat far too much pizza and Harry sits sandwiched between Zayn and Louis on the sofa afterwards while they play some game Zayn brought. Zayn looks fluffy and cosy in the jumper Louis leant him when he realised he hadn’t brought any pyjamas with him and Harry shifts closer to him. Even though Zayn was closer to Louis than any of them towards the end he still meant so much to all of them. Having him here, now in particular, is so, so nice.

 

“You’re failing!” Louis yelps joyfully when his character starts winning against Zayn’s.

 

“I’ve got a bit of a Harry shaped problem,” Zayn answers and Louis looks to where Harry is pressed into Zayn and smiles.

 

“Oh dear, your loss” he goes back to beating Zayn.

 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Harry says quietly against Zayn’s ear.

 

“Me too”

 

 

*

 

 

“How are you coping?” Zayn asks. They’re in the kitchen while Harry is asleep still upstairs.

 

“You know” Louis shrugs, “Not so well” Louis looks across at Zayn, if he’s ever going to say anything there’s no better time.

 

“You shouldn’t have just left you know?” Zayn sighs, “No, just let me continue. You should have told me how you were feeling, like, I told you so much shit and you told me some stuff sure, but not that, not that you wanting to fucking quit. And then you just did and it was fucking shit. It was so hard you know? Because I don’t know if you realise but you meant a lot to us, to me.” Louis shakes his head. “Sorry” he mutters.

 

“No, I needed to hear that. I know I didn’t handle things right but it was all so sudden. Like, I’d thought about it enough times but I didn’t think I’d actually do it. Then I was taking that break and I thought I’ll just have a few days away from it all and I’ll go back. Because I didn’t know any different, we all didn’t know any different. But then I thought, is this really what I want to be doing forever? Singing the same old songs that I don’t even like that much . . .”

 

“Things were changing though! You knew we were getting more freedom in what we made . . .”

 

“It wasn’t enough” Zayn sighs, “I don’t know how to explain it to anyone. But . . . yeah. I’m sorry for ditching you like that. But I thought if I’m going to leave I have to just go, just cut off everything that One Direction was about”

 

“I hated you, for months afterwards I hated you so fucking much. But it was because you’d actually done it; you’d fucking got up and left. I kind of wished I’d been the one who’d done it”

 

“You should”

 

“There’s no point now, we’re on a break and there’s no chance of getting back together. Not without Harry . . .” Louis looks lost and heartbroken and even though it hurts Zayn so much to look at him he's glad he came. He needed to see Louis again.

 

“I can’t say anything which will make this easier but we should try to work things out between us, properly. I don’t want you alone when Harry . . .” Louis nods

 

“Yeah, I’d like that” Zayn offers him a cigarette and Louis snorts and takes it, makes them go outside. They sit side by side on the garden steps and it’s not much but maybe it can be enough for now, maybe it can be the start of something more.

  

 

*

 

 

“Tell me your favourite memory” Harry says. Louis thinks for a moment. There have been so many memories with Harry he never wants to forget.

 

“Our first New Year’s party, do you remember it?” Louis doesn’t wait for Harry to answer, “We had about 200 people round, I think we just invited anyone and everyone we’d met that year. It was a bit ridiculous really, I remember bumping into someone who claimed to be Liam’s old science teacher in the kitchen, I reckon they were just drunk though . . . we made a right old mess. I remember going downstairs the morning after with my head fucking pounding while you were still asleep and seeing the state of everything. I think it took about 3 days to get everything properly sorted, you were still finding discarded empty bottles months later, we took a picture of them, I’ve still got it I think. Zayn was so drunk when the New Year actually came, I think he was the one who started ordering the pizzas, actually I think Liam told him to, to soak up some of the alcohol. It was Niall who started that dancing, he just climbed up on the table and people were just joining in. Liam started judging them remember? He even made those scoring cards and everything; he gave Zayn a 10 even though he was terrible because he was so drunk. I remember sitting there with you on my lap, you were probably too drunk to remember this it was about 3am, thinking how great it was. How it was the best possible ending to the best year of my life. Even though the New Years only got shitty after that I still like them, only because I can remember that night fondly.” He looks down and Harry smiles up at him.

 

“Sounds really nice”

 

“Can you remember it?” Harry shakes his head.

 

“No, but maybe I was just really drunk” Louis laughs but it’s empty.

 

“Yeah, probably. It was Liam’s fault, he bought about 100 bottles of Smirnoff Ice from Tesco, the delivery man hated him he said, didn’t even help him carry them upstairs.”

 

“Smirnoff Ice” Harry snorts

 

“Don’t laugh, it was your choice of drink back in the day”

 

“Classy”

 

“You’ve always been a classy bird”

 

“And you’ll always be terribly romantic” Louis just laughs and kisses Harry because he wants to.

 

*

 

 

Louis gets back from the shop and Harry presses him against the hallway wall before he can get to the kitchen. His hands instantly go to his belt and he presses their lips together desperately.

 

“Want to . . . please”

 

“Yeah, yeah . . . course” Louis says. He understands, pushes Harry gently off him and takes hold of his hand, leads them upstairs, wants to do this properly.

 

“Calm down though love, yeah? You’re fine” Louis says setting Harry down on the bed, shedding his shirt before doing the same to Harry. Harry fumbles around in their bedside drawn and tosses things haphazardly at Louis before getting up on his knees and kissing Louis again. Harry’s breath is coming out in ragged pants and Louis strokes his side, tries to calm him down.

 

“Come on baby, breathe a bit better for me” Harry just shakes his head and works at getting Louis’ jeans off, gets a hand round his cock once he has. Louis swears softly when he does and reconnects their lips. It’s messy and desperate and Louis fists a hand in Harry’s hair to get him where he wants him. Harry breaks away after a while and lies back, tries to pull Louis on top of him.

 

“No” Louis warns, slicking up a finger

 

“I’m fine, honestly, please”

 

“Harry, baby, relax, everything is fine” Louis is a little worried about Harry’s behaviour.

 

“Okay” Harry takes a breath and nods, lies back a little more calmly and lets Louis trace around his rim before pushing the finger in gently.

 

“Relax” Louis says again, moving his finger slowly.

 

“Come on, do another” Harry demands

 

“I’m not going to hurt you just because you’re impatient,” Louis says calmly and Harry glares at him.

 

“I’m fine, don’t you believe me?” Louis doesn’t say anything, just pulls his finger out and pushes in with two. Harry gasps and Louis shakes his head.

 

“I told you, you need to relax” Harry hates how Louis is right. He tries to appreciate the feel of Louis’ fingers but it’s not enough, not right now. Usually he likes Louis’ fingers inside him but he needs more, needs Louis. Louis leans down to kiss him and Harry responds, reaching a hand up to pulls Louis closer. Louis slides another finger in before he decides Harry’s okay.

 

“Come on” Harry says as soon as Louis pulls his fingers out. Harry scrambles to grasp hold of Louis wherever he can and pull him closer again. It’s a level of desperation Louis hasn’t seen before. Having Louis so close, so _everywhere_ , is exactly what he needs. Harry doesn’t know whether he's going to wake up tomorrow and forget who he is, doesn’t know when exactly he's going to forget everything but it’s too soon, sooner than he wants. A few tears leak down his cheeks because Louis feels so good and he's so amazing and Harry is scared to forget this, forget them, forget Louis. Louis just wipes Harry’s cheeks and kisses him again, fucks into him slowly and deeply. It’s far too much and Harry turns his head to the side, gasps in breaths, rests a hand on Louis’ wrist. He presses a hand to his mouth when he comes and Louis strokes a hand through his damp curls.

 

Harry starts crying properly once Louis pulls out.

 

“Baby what’s the matter?” Louis asks, sadly, so sadly.

 

“I just . . . don’t . . .want . . . to forget anymore” Harry gets out between sobs and Louis pulls him against his chest and strokes his hair and tries not to cry himself.

 

 

*

 

 

“We had a good run didn’t we? Five years is a long time, it’s more than other boybands last”

 

“Yeah I guess we did good,” Louis says

 

“I mean, we were going on a break anyway, this is just an earlier start to it. Maybe it’s better this way, there’ll be less expectations for a comeback which might not have happened anyway”

 

“What do you mean?” Louis says surprised, “Didn’t you think we’d come back?”

 

“I wasn’t too sure. I mean, a year is a long time”

 

“Harry, we’ve got the craziest fans. They’d support a year off . . .”

 

“People grow up, people forget . . .” he inhales sharply and cuts that train of thought, “Plus, I wondered whether we’d want to come back. It might be nice to just do nothing. It was getting a little too much . . .” they haven’t really spoken about this before, Louis had just assumed that Harry thought the same as him. That they needed a year or so to sort themselves out and then they’d return. He hadn’t even considered that Harry had thought something different, that maybe he didn’t want to come back.

 

“Weren’t you enjoying it?” Harry always seemed like he loved the stage, it was where he was born to be Louis had always thought.

 

“I used to . . . I do, I don’t know” Harry sighs and rolls onto his front, looking at Louis sideways. “It doesn’t matter anyway does it? Not now.”

 

“No I guess not”

 

*

 

Louis watches Harry struggle to remember things. Their conversations get harder to maintain and Harry doesn’t say anything sometimes because it’s easier. Louis pretends he’s okay with how they sit silently watching TV most days now and how they go to sleep without having said much all night. Harry still wants Louis to hold him as he falls asleep so Louis takes comfort in that, in the fact that Harry is still here for now.

 

*

 

 

Louis reads some statistics online. Apparently roughly 70% of relationships fail apart when one partner falls ill and 40% get divorced while the rest just move out. Some said they were only staying together because they felt they had to. A few months ago Louis would have been disgusted by anyone who wondered ditching someone when they were sick, now he’s not so sure.

 

 

*

 

 

 

“Lou we understand . . .” Liam says.

 

“No I don’t think you do. You don’t have to live with him, you don’t see him every day, see how fast things are going . . . you don’t have to see him not even be able to remember something I said a few minutes ago . . .”

 

“It’s hard I know but you’re not the only one who cares and loves Harry . . .”

 

“Don’t you dare, don’t you fucking dare say that you love Harry as much as I do! You haven’t been through half the shit we have and even if you’d like to believe that you love Harry that much you don’t, you can’t . . .”

 

“Lou, I would never try to say that” Louis looks visibly relieved, “All I’m saying is that we care about Harry as well. That this is hard for all of us, we hate this as much as you do, as much as _Harry_ does . . .” Louis isn’t sure whether it’s the combination of everything or Liam’s words but tears start rolling down his cheeks and then he can’t stop. Liam pulls him into his side and lets him cry.

 

He hates how Harry has to go through this. How he feels awful and dumb when he can’t remember stuff even though it’s not his fault. None of this is his fault. He hates how Harry tries to make things easier for him, because he loves Louis and hates knowing losing his memory makes him feel terrible. He hates everything about the past 6 months or so and wishes they could somehow fix Harry and put all this behind them. For this all to just be some terrible mistake they can laugh about and tell their kids. He's exhausted afterwards and Liam makes him lie down to have a nap and Louis doesn’t try to argue.

 

 

*

 

 

“What are we singing next?”

 

“You and I, love” Louis answers, the crowd have gone a little crazy seeing them talking. Louis knows he needs to move away even though he wants to hug Harry tightly because he looks so scared and confused and it’s too much, his heart aches too much.

 

“Oh, okay” the music starts up and Louis smiles at him.

 

“See?”

 

“Yeah, course” Harry smiles properly and moves away, goes to stand next to Liam. Liam’s arm comes to rest easily on his shoulders. Louis likes how the others are taking care of Harry when he can’t but not being able to hurts him so, so much.

 

 

*

 

 

They come offstage in three cities time and Louis’ ears are ringing. His body aches from not getting enough sleep in a week and from being too energetic onstage but he's happier than he has been in a while. There are certain countries and crowds that are particularly special, that make him love what they do even more. Harry is more subdued than the rest of them but Louis thinks he's just tired. He’s been going for it more than usual onstage recently as if making up for the times to come when he won’t be doing it anymore. Louis slows down and lets Harry catch up, slides his hand into Harry’s.

 

“You okay?”

 

“Yeah, can’t wait to get back though I need to sleep for forever”

 

“I think this calls for a celebration boys, don’t you think?” Liam says and Niall nods eagerly. “Lou? Harry?” Louis looks at Harry’s dark smudges under his eyes and limp hair and debates. He hasn’t been out for a while but he doesn’t want to leave Harry alone . . .

 

“You should go” Harry says to him quietly with a smile. Harry knows him so well and Louis loves him so much.

 

“Okay, yeah” he says, not letting go of Harry’s hand.

 

 

*

 

 

Louis gets back far too late not even sure how he managed to get home. He thinks he remembers Liam shouting at someone for a car or something. Or it could have been Niall . . . he tries to be quiet as he sticks the key card into the lock but he can’t get it in for at least the first 8 goes. He swears quietly and finally gets the door unlocked. It’s dark and there’s a Harry shaped lump under the covers. Louis toes off his shoes and sheds his clothes before stumbling over to the bed.

 

“Hey Lou” Louis jumps at the sound of Harry’s voice.

 

“Thought you were asleep,” he says with a frown.

 

“You’re not very coordinated when you’re drunk”

 

“Oh, sorry” Louis gets under the covers and Harry turns over to face him.

 

“Good night?”

 

“Yeah, Niall split about three drinks at the bar though. He’s even more uncoordinated than me!” Louis rolls himself closer, presses himself against Harry and kisses him sloppily. Harry humours him and kisses back before pulling away.

 

“I’m glad you had fun,” he says.

 

“I wish you’d been there though”

 

“Maybe next time” Louis beams before yawning hugely.

 

“Go to sleep”

 

“Yeah, good idea. Love you curly” Louis says, curling into a ball tucked into Harry’s side.

 

 

*

 

The tour still has to carry on and it’s the usual routine of bland hotel sheets and the buzz of new cities he can’t remember when he leaves and the same songs with the same crowd and the same things they’ve been doing for five years now. He worries about Harry but sometimes when they’re onstage and Harry is being weird and putting his all into singing like he always has done he can almost forget that there’s something wrong with him. That sometime in the future he isn’t going to remember any of this. He’s glad in a way of the constant motion because it stops him thinking about things more than he does, stops it consuming him, crushing him and swallowing him whole.

 

 

*

 

 

The thing is Louis doesn’t know what kind of day he's going to have. Some days are nice and they can both pretend that nothing is different from a year ago, that they’re going to wake up tomorrow and things will be the same again, and again, and for a long time to come. Others are so terrible that Louis can’t cope. He doesn’t know how to sort out Harry when he doesn’t even understand things himself and some days he wonders if he should get some help.

 

 

*

 

 

They play their last show before the break before Europe and Louis comes offstage happy but so ready to wake up tomorrow with no responsibilities. They’re flying back home tonight even though management wanted them to stay for a while, get seen out and about. Louis had shouted and argued his way into getting a break from things while Harry sat there and said nothing. He's been more pale and tired looking and Louis is more worried.

 

“Fine, but you’re taking separate planes”

 

“Don’t we always?”

 

*

 

 

Louis gets back to find Harry eating dry cereal out of the packet. He looks terribly tired.

 

“We’ll have to order out for dinner, unless you fancy cereal too?”

 

“I’ll pass” Louis has left a trail of stuff on his way to the kitchen and Harry goes to investigate while Louis makes a drink. He tidies Louis’ stuff away before they fall over it and have to continue the rest of the tour with casts on.

 

“I’m starting to like this peppermint tea stuff, even if it does taste like a field” Louis calls.

 

“Good, I’ll get some more” (if he remembers) there’s something about being back home which is a little overwhelming. It brings back memories that he’s so grateful and amazed he hasn’t forgotten. He remembers the day they tried to paint the hallway themselves and they’d gotten more paint on the expensive flooring and on themselves than the wall and the decorator they hired had smirked when he saw the terrible job they’d done. He remembers the night they’d won some fancy award and Louis had to go out afterwards and when he got back they’d ordered pizza and watch crappy TV like most couples do and it had been so nice to pretend they were normal just for a while. It’s not all happy memories but the bad ones are important even if they only make the good ones stand out more clearly. It’s stupid how a house can have so many memories for them but it’s their whole history together made out of bricks and wood and ridiculously expensive furniture.

 

“Harry?” Louis comes into the hall, he's been stood here for too long. “Are you alright?” Harry thinks that’s all Louis asks him recently. He nods and smiles.

 

“Yeah fine, just . . . it’s good to be back right?”

 

“Yeah, definitely”

 

 

*

 

 

“What does it feel like?” Niall asks when they’re backstage. “When you can’t remember”

 

“Frustrating” Harry answers, “It’s like, it’s just there and you still can’t remember. Like, you know you should know something but you just don’t. It’s annoying and it makes you feel so stupid because how can you just not remember?”

 

“Sorry for asking”

 

“No, it’s fine. Louis would never dare ask, I think he's too scared”

 

“Make sure you tell Louis you love him or something, yeah? Because he’ll need that. It’ll give him something to be happy about” Harry loves how Niall understands them so much, sometimes more than they understand themselves. He throws an arm around Niall.

 

“Thanks”

 

 

*

 

_Louis spends the morning after they get married twirling the ring he won’t keep on round his finger. It’s lovely, of course it is because Harry picked it out for him. He got married to Harry yesterday and nobody knows who doesn’t need to and it was the most perfect day and his cheeks ached from smiling and he didn’t let Harry move from his side all night in case he woke up and it wasn’t real. He was never a sappy romantic until he met Harry. He's married and the word sounds strange and he still can’t believe he gets to call Harry his. He can’t help but cry a little because it’s overwhelming. He kisses Harry when he wakes up and it feels different somehow. Harry is bright and pretty and giggly and Louis is so, so lucky._

_“Married eh?” Harry says, tucking his head into the spot between Louis’ neck and shoulder._

_“Yeah” Louis answers a little breathless._

_“Feels good” Harry says and Louis doesn’t know how he still loves Harry like he’s 18 again, in the unashamed, overwhelming way he did, but he does and it’s perfect._

_*_

 

Harry looks exactly the same is the thing. It’s only his mind which Louis can’t keep a hold of. He settles for clutching hold of the parts of Harry he can because he's so, so scared of losing him. He doesn’t understand why something can just steal Harry away from him, why it can take away the part which makes him Harry and leave someone who looks like Harry behind. It’s so cruel and heart breaking and Louis holds Harry close at night like he can save him from leaving.

 

 

 

 

Harry goes piece by piece and Louis wishes he could collect the pieces and fix him back together except it doesn’t work like that and he has to be content with what he has left, can only wait until another part of Harry is taken away from him.

 

 

 

 

 

They have good days, lots of them, because Louis makes them good days. He doesn’t want to waste time having bad days because it’s another day gone, another day closer. They don’t do anything in particular because Harry doesn’t want to and Louis is fine with that. Is content doing anything as long as Harry is there.

 

 

*

 

 

Louis watches Harry pull at the sleeves of his blazer, undo and redo a button on his shirt, fiddle with the ends of his hair. He’s nervous. Louis picks up his cup as soon as his hair is finally finished with and goes over to him.

 

“Want some?” Harry looks at the weird green sludge in Louis’ cup and crinkles his nose up.

 

“Nah thanks, I’ll pass” Louis shrugs, takes a sip (why they insist on putting soup in cups so he has to drink it he doesn’t know) and swiftly puts it aside. It’s rank.

 

“If I start floundering in there you have to step in. Say something sarcastic and distract them”

 

“I am pretty great at sarcasm” Louis says, “ You’ll be fine though”

 

“Stop saying shit like that, you don’t know what’s going to happen” Harry snaps. His temper has been bad recently. “Sorry”

 

“It’s fine” Niall stumbles into the room, glasses askew.

 

“We’re on soon,” he says, coming over to them glancing at Louis’ discarded soup.

 

“Yeah, I told them we didn’t like green soups. Didn’t listen, obviously”

 

“Can’t get anyone to do anything right these days” Louis says in a mock pretentious voice, standing up with a sigh and offering to pull Harry up too. Harry lets him and they follow Niall out of the room.

 

 

 

 

“So, the break is obviously something we have to talk about” Louis sighs internally. He's sick to death of saying they’re going on holiday, that no one should worry because they’ll be coming back, that it’ll be a year or two at most.

 

“What are you planning on doing? Let’s go down the line” Niall says something about golf and beer and family. Liam also says something about family, Louis goes with his usual lads holiday story.

 

“Harry?” Louis looks across at him, shifts his leg a little so they’re touching slightly.

 

“No too sure yet, just going to see what happens, see where the break takes me” it’s a perfect Harry answer and Louis nods, turns his attention back to the interviewer who’s wrapping up, he's relived, so relived.

 

 

 

 

Other times aren’t as good. Harry’s head goes blank when he's asked what his favourite song off the album is and he says something about them all being meaningful. The interviewer nods but frowns a little. Louis jumps straight in afterwards with some stupid story about when he and Liam were writing together, tries to distract everyone. Niall throws his arm around the back of the sofa and touches Harry’s shoulder briefly.

_Are you okay?_

_Yes, for now._

 

 

 

 

“Harry how does it feel to be back? This is your 8th time in Spain, maybe”

 

“Great, yeah, we always love being here. Great people, great crowds . . .”

 

“Can you speak some Spanish for your fans? They love it when you do”

 

“Umm, I can’t remember any . . .”

 

“No problem! I’ll say something and you guys can repeat it. Liam you go first” the man says something and Harry tries to follow what he says. The words sound like a horrible jumbled mess. Liam copies, finishes with an exaggerated wink even though he has no idea what he just said and the interviewer and Niall laugh easily. Harry picks at a lose bit of skin around his nail. Niall is pretty good, although the words sound weird what with his accent, Louis says something about that and they all laugh again. Harry forces a smile. It’s getting nearer to his turn and he has no idea what the man said because he can’t remember. He could just ask the man to repeat it but he’d probably look stupid.

 

“Harry?” shit.

 

“Um . . .”

 

“Harry’s a little tired today, too much partying” Liam says quickly.

 

“Ahh, having too much fun with the ladies eh?”

 

“Something like that” Liam lets out a forced laugh and Niall copies. The man moves on to the same old questions they’ve heard a thousand times. Harry has never been more thankful to his bandmates.

 

 

 

 

“I don’t want to do interviews anymore” Harry says and they all agree it’s for the best. The others carry on without him and there’s too much space on the sofa and they make jokes about losing two fifths of the band and Louis laughs louder than anyone because his heart aches the most. They’re louder and stupider to make up for the empty space and when the interviewers inevitably ask they make the same joke about Harry joining Zayn. There are hilarious headlines about Harry finally following his dreams and ditching One Direction to go solo like he's wanted to since 2013. Harry and Louis giggle over them in bed at night, screenshot the better ones. Harry always looks tired even when he hasn’t been doing anything and Louis keeps being loud so he can lie to himself and pretend nothing is the matter.

 

 

*

 

 

Their last concert is near the end of America. Louis likes America usually because it’s easy for them to fly home when they have a few days off. He feels like he needs a break. Being on tour for so long is draining, even more than usual. Louis hates not sleeping in their own bed, how he can’t go outside, how the traffic doesn’t stop even though it’s 4am and everything is still too bright when he shuts his eyes. Harry’s gone to sleep with Liam for the night because Louis is only human and he needs to _breathe_. He lights a cigarette and opens the window as wide as possible and lies across the bed. It feels wrong to have to whole tings to himself. Harry had shouted at him this morning and he was gentle while he calmed Harry down. Harry had apologised afterwards and they’d watched TV while their arms barely brushed against each other. Louis rolls onto Harry’s side of the bed and buries his face into the pillow. It smells like the ridiculous expensive everything free, organic/vegan/polar bear, zebra, _moth_ friendly orange shampoo Harry brought back the last time he was in LA. Louis had snorted at how dumb Harry was but used it every day in the shower anyway. He’s being stupidly sappy and he sits back up. The room is quiet and lonely and Louis is reminded of all the times they were forced to be apart yet now he’s willingly not with Harry when he could be. Louis almost gets up and goes to Liam’s room but knows he needs this time alone. He sleeps well that night even though the bed is too big and he has nothing to cuddle. How easily and well he sleeps without feels horrible and he guiltily crashes his lips against Harry’s when he sees him and clutches Harry’s hand in his and doesn’t let go.

 

 

*

 

 

Harry misses his cue onstage and Louis looks over at him, Harry just shakes his head. Liam sings Harry’s words for the rest of the song and they all notice how the audience seems a little confused since Harry was fine just a few minutes ago. That’s what’s hardest, Louis thinks, the infrequency of Harry’s memory loss. Sometimes they’re having a good day and he just goes and Louis finds it so hard to cope.

 

“Can you remember the next song? The lyrics?” Louis asks and Harry bites his lip, struggles to remember _anything_.

 

“No” Liam comes over to them while Niall tries to distract the audience with a long-winded story.

 

“What are we going to do?”

 

“I can’t remember anything,” Harry says angrily. Sometimes his anger is worse than when he gets upset.

 

“We’ve got six songs left” Louis says

 

“We’ll do them then, do you want to go offstage?” Liam asks. Harry nods, doesn’t want to stay and feel useless. It’ll only make him hate himself more.

 

 

*

 

 

They release the album early as an apology for cutting the tour short. It’s the best they can do and it doesn’t stop Harry from feeling less guilty.

 

 

*

 

 

They’ve come too far is the thing. They’ve come too far and been through too much for Louis to let this come between them. He smiles at Harry when he asks the same question he did 10 minutes ago and the same one he’ll ask in half an hour’s time because it’s the only thing he can do. The only thing he's been doing for the past five years- doing the best he can.

 

He loves Harry still, he keeps telling himself, and doesn’t like to think that maybe the fact he has to keep reminding himself it means it isn’t true. Because of course it’s true, he can’t just stop loving Harry because sometimes he isn’t _Harry_ and he doesn’t love him back. It’s so hard though. It hurts seeing Harry recoil from him, watching the disgusted looks Harry gives him when he tries to touch him, when he tries to hold onto something real. It’s not his fault his brain stops working sometimes because when it catches up, when he’s back again, everything is fine. He tells himself that whatever Harry does when he isn’t himself doesn’t matter and the crushing way Harry loves him usually is enough.

 

 

 

*

 

Harry walks into the kitchen, slower than he used to, everything needing more thought. He pauses in the doorway and looks around. They put the cups in the second right hand side cupboard above the cooker and coffee on the shelf below the cups (maybe.) Harry goes to check and finds he's right. He fills the kettle and flicks it on a few minutes later when he remembers he has to. He finds the teaspoons in the cutlery draw after methodically checking all the draws (they never use napkins, Harry isn’t sure why they have so many.) He spoons two scoops of coffee into to the mug , adds the water and stirs. He gets the milk from the fridge and adds that too. Then he takes the coffee back to the lounge. (The whole process takes him over 20 minutes.)

 

 

 

 

“Harry let me make dinner tonight” Louis says gently.

 

“But you made it last night and we share that job”

 

“I know baby but . . .”

 

“But what?” Harry demands and Louis just looks at him sadly, at a loss for words.

 

“Fine! Make fucking dinner then . . .” Harry snaps, leaving the kitchen. Louis puts some oven chips on a tray.

 

*

 

“Can we have Christmas early?” Harry asks, it’s only October but he doesn’t want to not have a last Christmas he can remember.

 

“You mean put the decorations up?”

 

“Yeah and watch Christmas films and stuff, you know, just nice Christmas stuff”

 

“Yeah, sure if you want to we’ll do it . . .”

 

 

 

 

“Do you want Quality Streets or Celebrations, or Roses” Louis adds with a frown, he hates Roses.

 

“Get all of them”

 

“All?” Louis asks with a laugh.

 

“Well I like some of all of them, we can give the ones we don’t eat to Niall” it’s so stereotypical but give him some left over food, especially chocolate, and he’ll gladly eat it. Says he's doing the world a favour by not being wasteful.

 

 

 

 

They put the tree up and Louis is impatient as Harry puts the lights on carefully, he just wants to get to the decorating, it’s the best bit. Harry chastises him, tells him the lights form the base of the tree and Louis sits on the sofa and cracks open the first of the three boxes of chocolate he bought. He watches Harry in the ridiculous Christmas jumper they found at the bottom of the box of decorations while he carefully wraps the light around the tree. It’s fun and Louis laughs easily and takes a picture of the tree once they’re done and cuddled up on the sofa and Harry somehow got him to wear some reindeer antlers and a flashing nose. He loves Harry and his ridiculous ideas so much.

 

 

 

 

“Harry, go change the film”

 

“You go change the film”

 

“I’m too full”

 

“Same” Harry brushes the pile of empty wrappers he's been collecting by his side onto the floor.

 

“We’ll have to clean up tomorrow”

 

“As long as it isn’t now I’m fine,” Louis laughs. They’re ridiculous, they’re completely ridiculous. The tree looks pretty in the corner and Harry looks pretty in the soft light and Louis loves him. They sit right through the end credits until the screen goes black and then back to the start screen.

 

“Happy Christmas I guess” Louis says, Harry rolls onto his back to look up at Louis, smiles at him.

 

“Happy Christmas”

 

 

*

 

 

 

Louis just makes cups of coffee and hands them to Harry as they sit on the sofa and watch TV. Harry doesn’t want to do much else and Louis is glad because going out is hard. Having to watch Harry like a child is so awful and sad and Louis hates it more than anything. Louis tries to have fun because he knows time is limited and sometime soon he won’t be able to do things with Harry but it’s hard when it’s not Harry he's with but some stranger. Some imposter who looks like Harry but isn’t.

 

 

 

 

“Are you going to get up today?”

 

“No”

 

“You should, we could go . . .”

 

“I don’t want to”

 

“Okay”

 

 

 

 

“Harry you can’t stay in bed forever” Louis tries to make it a joke, pushes Harry lightly. Harry just burrows down deeper under the covers and doesn’t say anything.

 

 

 

 

“Harry get up”

 

“Fuck off”

 

“No, you have to get up”

 

“I don’t want to”

 

“For fucks sake, you’re making this worse for yourself! Stop wallowing in your own fucking self pity and get up, we’ll do something together” Louis is more angry than he thought he was. He's sick of seeing Harry like this though, sick of him just _giving up_. He takes a calming breath. “Look, I’m sorry but it isn’t doing you any good just staying in bed all the time, is it?” Harry looks up at Louis, who’s been with him through everything and nods.

 

“Okay then” he pushes the covers back.

 

 

*

 

It happens all too fast.

 

 

 

“Harry? I’m popping to the shop do you want anything?” Louis checks the kitchen before going into the lounge, Harry is sat on the sofa and he looks scared.

 

“Harry?”

 

“How did you get in?”

 

“What?” Louis asks, probably too forcefully because he's scared too. Doesn’t understand what Harry’s saying.

 

“Why are you here?”

 

“What do you mean?” Louis asks again, stepping closer. Harry cringes back into the sofa. Then he asks the question Louis has been dreading since he got diagnosed and he's crushed.

 

“Who the fuck are you?”

 

“I’m . . .” Louis stops himself. How can he begin to explain to Harry? He feels angry tears and he swipes them away.

 

“Harry, please . . .”

 

“How do you know me?” Harry looks so pale and scared and Louis hates how he's the cause. He doesn’t bother trying to explain to Harry because last time he tried he made Harry cry. He backs out of the room and goes to call Liam, to tell him everything.

 

Louis goes to the bathroom afterwards and cries. It’s only been 8 months since they went to see the Doctor.

 

(It starts happening more frequently after that.)

 

*

 

 

“So you’re speaking to me now are you?” Louis says nastily and Harry frowns.

 

“When wasn’t I?”

 

“Last night”

 

“I can’t remember . . .” Harry stops himself, “You can’t do that to me that’s not fair”

 

“What?” Louis snaps, standing up.

 

“Blame me for things when . . . when it’s not really me” Louis feels bad, almost. But he's tired, so, so tired, and he wants Harry to know how much this hurts him. He’s awful he knows but he’s beginning to not care. Hating Harry makes this easier for him, will make it easier for when Harry forgets him completely.

 

“Oh I’m sorry” he starts sarcastically, “But you don’t know what it’s like when someone you’re supposed to love, someone you’re supposed to be _married_ to, is acting like they hate you, when they don’t want you to touch them or be anywhere near them, it’s fucking hard you know?” Harry looks crushed before he’s angry, so angry.

 

“And you don’t think this is hard for me as well? Are you really that self-centred that you think you’re the only person this affects? Fucking hell Louis . . .”

 

“Of course I’m not, I get that it’s hard for you, not being able to remember at all. But that’s the point, you can’t remember, you _can’t remember_ what you do when you act like I’m disgusting, when you act like you’d never be with me if I was the last person on earth, that _hurts_ ” Harry nearly apologises because he hates it when Louis is angry with him before remembering this isn’t his fault, that Louis is being a massive twat.

 

“For fucks sake Louis, you’re acting like I’m doing it on _purpose_ or something” Harry can’t help the way his voice rises and he takes a calming breath. He's not going to cry. “You’ve done some shitty things in your life Louis but this is too much. You’re being unreasonable”

 

“Well I’m sorry for having feelings. I’m sorry that this whole situation affects me as well as you. I’m sorry I had to sit here and watch you deteriorate over this past year and to try to be okay with it because you needed me to when I was just as hurt as you were” Harry looks at him a little blankly when he finishes and Louis calms his breathing, scrubs a hand through his hair. “I’m tired of seeing you getting worse and worse, I can’t deal with it anymore”

 

“ _You_ can’t deal with it . . .” Harry sounds a little hysterical, “I . . .” he stops himself. He’s done, he's so done with this.

 

 

*

 

 

Things are so bad between them that Louis doesn’t even protest when Harry says he's going to go back home to his mum’s. Louis doesn’t bother saying good-bye.

 

 

 

 

He calls Anne when he thinks Harry will be asleep and catches up on everything that’s been happening. Eventually though it gets too much, hearing how things are just getting worse, and he stops. He feels empty and sad and it’s worse than anything he's felt ever and he doesn’t know how if they’re ever going to recover from this.

 

 

*

 

 

Louis downs the last of his drink and chucks the plastic cup away. He’s far too drunk and it feels good, he feels good, better than he has in a while. He feels powerful and in control. He doesn’t have to worry about Harry or what he's doing or answer any of his dumb questions and it feels great. He pushes through the crowd onto the dance floor. Some girl moves closer to him and Louis lets her, lets her press her body against his and run her fingers along his forearms. She leans closer and smiles. Louis can’t tell what she says but it doesn’t matter. He hair brushes against his arm and Louis smiles back at her. She takes it to mean he's interested and for a moment Louis is sure he's going to let the girl kiss him. her lips are tinted a pale pink and Louis isn’t sure whether he wants them against his or if he's just lonely and confused. She touches his waist and leans in, leans so close Louis almost doesn’t pull away but somehow he does. Somehow he thinks about Harry and this feels so gross and disgusting that he pushes away from her and goes to the bathroom to throw up all the alcohol he’s had. He sits on the floor and cries because he hurts and everything is fucked up.

 

*

 

Louis goes to visit Harry at home. He's in bed on his computer and he doesn’t look up when Louis opens the door.

 

“Hey” Harry looks surprised to see him.

 

“So you’ve decided I’m worth your time again” Louis’ chest aches and his head hurts from all the drinking he's done and he can’t stand for Harry to hate him anymore.

 

“I’m so sorry” Harry scoffs. “Look, I know I was a massive twat . . .”

 

“You could say that”

 

“I just didn’t know how to handle things anymore!” Louis says, voice rising, “I’ve seen you over the past year becoming less of yourself and it was all just a little too much. I’ve tried to be strong because you needed me to be even when I felt exactly the same! I’m just as sad and scared and unsure about everything. I understand this as much as you do and it was so, so hard for me as well. And yeah, I didn’t act in the right way a few weeks ago I’ll admit but it just got too fucking much. I hate the fact that it’s inevitable and it’s all coming around too fast, that I’m just going to fucking _lose_ you” Louis chokes off. Saying it out loud, to Harry, makes it so much worse.

 

“Fucking hell, come here” Louis crashes down onto the bed and Harry lies them down and lets Louis cuddle impossibly closer because they both need it. Need to know that they’ve still got each other.

 

 

*

 

“Hey Louis, what date is it again?”

 

“The 26th love”

 

“Oh yeah”

 

 

 

 

“Lou?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“I got locked out of my phone again”

 

“Where did that piece of paper go? I wrote it down . . .”

 

“I lost it”

 

 

 

 

“You shouldn’t let Harry go out on his own anymore”

 

“Yeah, it was stupid of me, I should have . . .”

 

“I’m not blaming you Louis, you’re doing more than enough . . . Maybe though, maybe it’s time to get some professional help” Louis nods, throat tight.

 

“Yeah”

 

It’s almost like things just get bad overnight. Like he went to sleep and it was February and Harry was a little forgetful and he woke up and it was still dark outside and Harry’s memory is so eaten away at he isn’t himself anymore.

 

 

*

 

 

 

They don’t sleep in the same bed anymore because sometimes Harry wakes up in the middle of the night and freaks out if he sees Louis lying there. Louis tries to get used to sleeping alone.

 

“Maybe you should think about getting some extra help, or putting Harry . . .” Louis glares at the doctor.

 

“If you were about to say put Harry in a home or something . . .” he takes a deep breath, calms down, “No fucking way. He’s not that bad yet” the doctor smiles at him sadly, it pains him to see Louis in denial like this.

 

“If you change your mind . . .”

 

“I fucking won’t”

 

 

 

 

Sometimes there are glimmers of who Harry used to be. Small memories from tour or something Zayn said on the phone a few nights ago. Louis holds onto them almost as dearly as he does to Harry.

 

 

 

 

It doesn’t get worse than when Harry lashes out at him and hits him on the face when he’s scared because he doesn’t know who Louis is. The pain of his cheek is absolutely nothing compared to seeing Harry completely lost from who he was.

 

 

*

 

 

Louis has to ring the hospital and get some help.

 

 

“We sedated him for his own safety” the doctor says. From the outside Harry doesn’t look any different. He’s still the person Louis fell in love with aged 18 except he's not really (not at all.) Louis sits down next to the bed on the armchair. He can only stare at Harry who isn’t really Harry and wish things has turned out differently.

 

“We were so close, so close to being free . . .” Louis says. “Things were going to be so good for us . . .” he stops he can’t blame Harry (except he does but not really.) He hates Harry for leaving him like this, for being _here_ but not being _Harry_ at all. Everything they went through, their chance at being who they wanted to be, means nothing now, Louis covers his mouth to stop an impending sob.

 

“I hate you” he gets out between shuddery breaths. “I hate you so much . . .” he hopes Harry can hear him, even if he won’t understand why, won’t even know who he is. Louis finds Harry’s hand under the covers and holds it.

 

“You wouldn’t let me do this if you were awake . . . I’m sorry. I just needed to . . . “ Louis lets go. Knows Harry, this Harry, would be scared and disgusted if he knew Louis did that.

 

“I love you Harry” Louis says but he’s not sure he believes it himself anymore. He doesn’t love this Harry, he loves _his_ Harry, the one before his brain got sick and he forgot. The one he got to see flourish into his lovely, confident but still dorky, always so dorky, Harry- who he was so sure he was going to spent forever with. Louis takes a calming breath, swipes at his eyes, and stands. He can’t do this anymore, he thought he was stronger but he isn’t, can’t be. Because how can you love someone who doesn’t even remember who you are? Louis goes down to the waiting car.

 

“Home?” the driver asks,

 

“Don’t call it that . . . no, just . . . drive around a bit, I don’t know . . .” The driver nods.

 

“’Course”

 

As much as Louis wants to remember Harry for all the good times he can’t get Harry, sedated and having forgotten _everything_ , out of his head and it’s just the most awful thing. He doesn’t need to hide his sobs now and it feels good to cry freely.

 

 

*

 

Louis tries to visit Harry a few times but it just upsets the both of them so he stops going.

 

 

*

 

 

He’s glad he can afford to out Harry somewhere nice, where he’ll be looked after properly. Louis goes to check the room and meets several of the doctors and nurses before he signs anything. He wants the best for Harry after all.

Louis spends Christmas at home with his family and gives everyone more presents than he needs to and accept gratefully the huge they hive him. He’s had a few too many glasses of wine by the time Anne rings.

 

“Happy Christmas” he slurs when he answers the phone.  “How was it?”

 

“As good as can be expected I suppose. Things were fine until someone told Harry it was Christmas day I’m not sure what he thought it was but it upset him . . .”

 

“Oh”

 

“You should try visiting again”

 

“I’m not sure . . .”

 

“Please Louis” Anne says firmly and Louis nods.

 

“Yeah, yeah, sure”

 

 

*

 

 

Louis visits on New Year’s Day. His head is pounding and the hallway is quiet and sad with leftover Christmas decorations and paper chains. It’s the feeling of the morning after the night before and Louis keeps his head down as he goes towards Harry’s room. The nurse wanted to accompany him but Louis asked her not to. He knocks quickly before he decides it’s too much too soon and goes in. He hasn’t seen inside since Harry moved in because he wasn’t ready, they’d met in the living room on the few times Louis came to visit. Louis couldn’t handle the empty armchairs and the sea paintings on the wall. It isn’t much different from their (his) room at home. Harry looks up and frowns at Louis.

 

“Hi?”

 

“Hey . . .” Harry smiles at him, but it’s polite. Louis knew Harry wouldn’t remember him but he can’t help but still feel crushed, like he expected some miracle to have happened.

 

“I . . . I volunteer here and I just thought I’d . . . you know . . . come and chat” he finishes lamely.

 

“Oh, sure!” Harry smiles and sits up straighter, tells Louis to take off his jacket and sit down. Harry has a nice view of the impressive grounds, one of the reason Louis was prepared to pay an extra £100 a week for this room. Harry’s wearing the jumper Louis assumes Anne got him for Christmas she was telling him about, a nice if simple gray one, and black pyjama bottoms. It’s not as if Louis expected t see Harry on one of his half buttoned patterned number (expect maybe he did just a little) but he looks different, too different. Louis’ glad he hasn’t cut his hair though, he think he’d most definitely have cried if he had. Harry leans forwards slightly.

 

“So what do you usually talk to people about?” _he doesn’t remember anything. he doesn’t know me, or anything he did, or who he was._

 

“Um . . . anything and everything . . . you start” Harry laughs again, easily, airily.

 

“Okay . . . well, my Christmas jumper came back from the wash today all shrunk so I now can’t wear _that_ anymore . . . “

 

“Terrible”

 

“I know right?! They said they’d get me another one . . .”

 

“Did you have a good Christmas?”

 

“Yeah, I guess I did. I mean I think I did . . . you know I was thinking the other day, there was this one Christmas I spent with someone and they looked kind of like you . . .”

 

“Really?” Louis’ heart leaps. Harry nods, frowning, before he relaxed and laughs.

 

“Yeah, but it can’t have been. I probably watched it on TV or something”

 

“Probably yeah” Harry leans forwards again.

 

“You know, for someone who’s supposed to be here to talk you aren’t very good at it”

 

“Sorry, just a little tried and hungover”

 

“Ahh, makes sense” it doesn’t seen fair that Harry still looks like Harry, is still as pretty as ever, but he's just _not Harry_. Louis rubs his eye furiously.

 

“Are you alright?” Harry sounds so concerned and it doesn’t help at all.

 

“Yeah, just . . . one of those people who get winter hay fever . . .” Louis doesn’t know if that’s a thing, he stands up.

 

“Better go take a tablet or something for it actually . . .” he picks up his jacket, shrugs it on.

 

“Oh okay . . .” Harry goes towards the door. He looks smaller somehow, thinner maybe. Louis hopes they’re treating him alright, he’ll speak to the doctor on his way out.

 

“Will you come again . . ? You didn’t tell me your name, did you?” Harry frowns, thinking.

 

“No, it’s  . . . um, Louis” Harry smiles again.

 

“Louis! Great! Will you come again?”

 

“Yeah course, this was . . . nice”

 

“Yeah it was” Harry waves him goodbye as he walks down the corridor. It’s still and empty and Louis decides to ring to doctor instead, eager to get outside, he pulls his jacket tighter around himself and goes towards his car.

 

The drive home is quiet and there’s not much traffic on the roads. Louis turns the heating up. He almost makes it home before he has to pull up to the side of the road because he can’t see anymore because he’s crying too much.

 

The thing is he hasn’t lost Harry completely, not in a physical sense, because he can go visit him whenever, which is so much worse. Because whoever it is he just visited wasn’t Harry, just a shell of his body with a diseased mind. He’s not going to remember all the incredible things they did, all the friendships they created and all the fans they saved. He’s not going to remember anything they did together because Harry is a stranger now, to himself, to who he used to be. It’s not enough, the time he got with Harry, because all the time in the world and more wouldn’t be enough. Couldn’t capture Louis’ heart and the way he loves Harry. The winter sun is bright and Louis pulls down the sunscreen, checks his reflection in the mirror and wipes his eyes. He gets home in the late afternoon and the house is quiet and empty and all he can do is try not to cry all over again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Hmu on tumblr if u want: Pumpkinpatchharry


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